Fate Doesn't Make Mistakes
by Jortalus
Summary: Sasuke once took love for granted, and it slipped through his fingers. He returns to Konoha in order to attend a ceremony that forever changes the dynamic of Team 7; during his stay, might he find something else worth sticking around for? Meanwhile, a tournament is devised to give career soldiers an escape from boredom and frustration. (Post-war)
1. Taken for Granted

**Disclaimer: Naruto isn't mine, and I make no claim to its characters or settings. Masashi Kishimoto is a fantastic writer and artist, and he's the one to thank for the wonderful world this story is based in.**

 **Enjoy!**

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Sasuke Uchiha had expected to have been gone for a great deal longer than he was. It had been merely three years since the defeat of Kaguya Ootsutsuki and the end of the Fourth Great Ninja War. Peace had been steadily maintained between the five great nations, but there would always be the outlying criminal element to deal with along the roads and unsettled forests. Sasuke himself had dealt with a few undesirables during his travels to seek atonement. The encounters had made him temporarily cynical: _Can peace ever truly be achieved?_ He would often ask himself that question, but a few very specific thoughts had constantly prevented him from saying "No."

For a time, he had been driven exclusively by his brother's ideal of a peaceful world; Itachi Uchiha was perhaps the greatest unsung hero of the entire generation, but it was still a rare occurrence for a living shinobi to say his name without spite. Sasuke had recognized the importance of keeping the Leaf's treachery silent from the rest of the world; to reveal the collaboration between Itachi and the Third Hokage's ruling council would have been to doom the village to further internal strife. There was no need for arguments over long-dead men and women nor discussion about an incident that could never be taken back.

Another thought that drove him was the image of Naruto's obnoxious grin. The orange-headed moron had been a guiding light throughout Sasuke's darkest hours, and his constant pestering was actually a welcome thorn in the Uchiha's side. The pain of that irritating splinter was enough to keep him at least tangentially aware of the family he had left behind—the family he had nearly lost during his single-minded quest for vengeance. Family was important—the most important thing to him, in fact. Yes, even Naruto was important to him, but the one who was even more important than that was a beautiful young woman named Sakura Haruno.

Sakura was the one who necessitated his return to Konoha after those three aimless years; her name upon the missive was all it took to bring him home. During his travels, Sasuke had seen much of the world, but there was still yet more to see. He had duties to fulfill, curiosities to sate, and wrongs to right. He had been far off in the Land of Earth when the messenger hawk arrived to him with the news that changed his perception of life, had warped it into something skewed. After receiving that message, he knew what he had to do—he had to return home in order to attend the event that threatened to rock his very existence. He had to see it with his own eyes; he had to make it _real_.

Such an event was enough to reunite the somewhat-scattered group once called the Rookie Nine, the most gifted Genin of Sasuke's own generation. He and Naruto had surpassed their comrades many years ago, but the less-talented ninjas had still played a crucial role in ending the war and picking up the pieces in the aftermath. They had integrated themselves deeply into the community of their village and had remained loyal to one another throughout the years. Sasuke himself was the sole outcast, the one who seemed most unlikely to return for the ceremony to come. Perhaps that unlikelihood is what motivated him the most to show up. He wanted to prove that he had no hard feelings, but it was a surprisingly difficult notion to appease.

There he was, then, as the outcast on a warm, cloudy evening in the earliest weeks of spring. Sasuke stood outside the clean gates that may as well have been the opening into hell itself. He realized that he had ultimately lost his chance at happiness due to his wandering, but perhaps it was not so simple...perhaps his chance had been lost many _years_ before that. He had made dozens of poor decisions, took all of the paths that only the foolish would have chosen to take. He _was_ a fool. He had every opportunity to go back and make it right, but his plotted course of vengeance saw only one way to traverse—he could only go forward, never backward. And with that same mindset, he could not step away from the dreaded portal into the unknown.

If he walked through the white archway with the rice-paper sign designed to flag attendees to the proper location, he would be acknowledging the truth—he would be giving credibility to the words that were written on paper and crumpled in the satchel that was slung over his shoulder. He wanted to turn away and go to sleep, to dream away the worst of his pain. His heart was beating quickly as he stood there, and he could hear whispering voices and quiet music beyond the high white fencing that bordered the open-aired park.

Sasuke Uchiha was in Konoha again, and the nostalgia was overwritten by a severe sense of unwelcome change. He had always taken her for granted. He had expected to _always_ have her love at his fingertips, and thought that she would never abandon her longstanding feelings for him. _See you soon,_ he had said to her when he elected to depart on his self-imposed mission of atonement. _My sins have nothing to do with you,_ he had also said. He felt a sting in his chest that must have been focused regret; for the briefest of moments, he wondered if things might have been easier if the sting was actually the knife of an assassin, and his dropped guard had presented the perfect opportunity. Feeling the way he did had actually made death seem like a welcome alternative.

He took one solitary step forward, his black travel cloak swaying silently in the calm wind of the evening. The street lights hummed around him, but he stayed in the shadows. Guests were still arriving in front of him, dressed in black and fancy clothing to present themselves adequately. Many people from many villages had motivation to attend the gathering; Naruto had a heavy stake in what was to come, and he had touched the hearts and minds of very nearly every shinobi who survived the war.

Among the arrivals, Sasuke even recognized Gaara, the Fifth Kazekage and a man who had played a vital role in helping Sasuke to realize what was important to himself. Standing there in that moment, watching the auburn-headed figure of authority with the word 'love' almost ironically tattooed onto his forehead, Sasuke flashed back to the image of Sakura being pinned ruthlessly against a tree and knocked unconscious. He was powerless then to stop her from feeling that pain, but if he had a mind to do it in the present, he could have finally achieved his revenge against the unwitting Kazekage.

Sasuke hadn't felt the darkness in his heart surge so powerfully ever since he tried to kill Naruto in the final hour of the war. At the time, he had wanted to kill all five of the Kages at once as they slept, but he had since changed his mind. Despite all of their disagreements in the past and the rift that was regrowing between them, Sasuke still respected Naruto greatly and allowed the world to fall into his hands, to adhere to _his_ simplistic way of things. It had been a difficult pill for Sasuke swallow, but in just three years the climate of the world had changed so much that it was nearly impossible to argue against Naruto's special way of reaching out to touch every willing or unwilling heart.

Gaara was one of those hearts. Looking at the ex-jinchuriki caused Sasuke's lip to quiver at its corner, a snarl threatening to bare itself. As a teenager, Gaara had caused enormous suffering to Sasuke and his friends...yet Naruto still extended a naïve offer of friendship. The notion of such a friendship had deeply offended Sasuke at the time, but it proved to be a spark that lit into a fire that burned for peace and integrity. Gaara had become a stupendous Kage and a remarkable human being—no matter what grudge Sasuke held against him, that fact could never be denied. The world was infinitely better with Naruto Uzumaki among its denizens.

Sasuke shook his head clear of vengeful thoughts as Gaara entered the fearsome gate. He was flanked by Temari and Kankuro, his eternal siblings and bodyguards. They were chatting with one another. They laughed before they vanished beyond the open fence to join the rest of the guests. They weren't watching their backs; why would they be? The world was _safe_ again. There was no war to fight, and not even a minor political dispute to solve that day.

The crowd had gathered there for a merry occasion, not a sad one, yet Sasuke felt the gloom of his own thoughts. He reached his hand into his pouch, searching for the crumpled paper and folding it out with deft fingers. One thing he had quickly gotten used to was life with a single arm. He had always preferred to use his left hand, but in its absence, his right was more than enough. He read the note again. It was personalized to him and penned thoughtfully in Sakura's handwriting. At the end of the important parts, she made a final appeal in thicker letters: " _It would mean the world to us if you were to come. We really hope to see you soon! -Sakura"  
_

He had intended to throw the letter away until his eyes had taken in the significance of that final line. To Sakura and Naruto, he was still a treasured part of Team 7. Kakashi, too; they had all worked their hardest to bring him home and to get him to stick around, but he had insisted upon walking the world instead. It was a necessary thing for him to do, he thought, and he didn't regret his choice on the surface. Deep down, though, he had wished that he could have stayed in Konoha long enough to see the signs coming. Perhaps he could have stepped in and changed things before they grew too solid. A betting man might have seen it coming from a mile away—at least, a man with any sense of social awareness would have.

His sole regret was that he didn't take her _with him_. She had asked to come, practically begged to be a part of his life, but he had turned her down and walked away. He had no right to be surprised by what had happened in his absence, but the realization still cut into him when he observed the growing pile of invitees. At least half of the audience probably still wanted Sasuke dead, but he wasn't afraid of their wrath—his power was unrivaled by any man aside from Naruto, and the imbecile would have probably taken Sasuke's side anyhow if a fight were to erupt.

He hesitated for two different but related reasons—first was the nagging feeling from above. He didn't want to be the cause of unrest at what was supposed to be a happy occasion. Several of Sasuke's former classmates were still pretty likely to raise hell if they caught sight of him walking through the archway and into the merriment. Kiba Inuzuka was the one with the loudest mouth, and a whiff of the air told Sasuke that he was already in attendance with his large dog, Akamaru.

The second reason, as mentioned to be related to the first, was that he was afraid that he _himself_ would start a scene. It was one thing to psyche himself up during the journey home, but another thing entirely to have actually arrived within the Leaf to experience all of its familiar sights, sounds, smells, and flavors. Everything had superficially changed since he was a child; the village had been utterly demolished by a spiteful demon called Pain, but the ashes had quickly risen into something even greater than before. In retrospect, Sasuke wondered what might have happened if he had been in the village during Pain's attack—could he have made a difference, or was Naruto the only one destined to become the savior?

Though the village had changed aesthetically, much of its spirit was the same—its people had remained strong and stable, its foundations unwavering. As far as Sasuke was concerned, only one thing had changed too remarkably much, and that one thing happened to be the only thing that truly mattered to him. Sakura was no longer waiting there with open arms and begging to him to embrace her. She was no longer over his shoulder to chase him down and declare her undying love for him. At some point during Sasuke's extended absence, she had been swayed off of her once-chosen path and onto another.

He took another step toward the entrance. He was in the light of the streetlamps, then. He could feel the warmth of the electrical bulb as it pulsed down onto his covered self. He was hooded and cloaked, looking awfully suspicious. Despite his ominous garb, nobody even glanced his way as they continued to gather. It was odd to be so unremarkable within the village—while he grew up, all eyes were constantly upon him. He was expected to do great things and to become known as the hero who had slain Itachi Uchiha. Things had turned out to be quite different from what the village expected, indeed.

The dull hum of conversation beyond the fence had become a steady rumble. He heard familiar and unfamiliar voices dancing off of one another, some shouting seating arrangements and others making last-minute preparations. There were only a few minutes left before the ceremony was scheduled to begin. Sasuke was going to have to make a decision soon—would he step through that doorway and acknowledge his imperfect new reality, or would he turn away and harbor a resentful darkness in his heart that was sure to grow?

He clutched his chest with his single hand, shuddering with indecision. His future had once been so clear. He would return to his village and finally give Sakura the love and affection that she had always craved from him. He had thought himself to be the final goal in his cherished teammate's life, the only one who truly mattered to her when the sun had set at the end of every day. For as long as he could remember, he had loved her. He loved Sakura Haruno with his entire heart, but some twisted blackness in his mind and body had convinced him to suppress that emotion for the sake of attaining greater power. He had come close to killing her on more than one occasion, his body acting on its own while his desperate heart screamed for his hand to stop.

Naruto had saved her from his deadly intentions then. Without Naruto, Sakura would have been dead and Sasuke would have been the sole person to blame. He owed the Kyuubi's host a great deal, didn't he? _No,_ Sasuke corrected himself. _It's Kurama, not the Kyuubi, isn't it?_ Over the years he had still been coming to grips with the idea that the tailed beasts were living, thinking entities who hated war and imprisonment as much as any human had ever done. The world was new and brave, and Naruto Uzumaki had been the joint upon which it turned itself around. Sasuke was but a pebble on the tracks, an insignificant mite to be brushed aside by the compelling desire of the entire planet to find real peace. In hindsight, he was grateful for having been knocked away by Naruto's foolish idealism.

That gratitude was replaced by a secretive hatred during that evening, though. Sakura had slipped through Sasuke's fingers after a long, unbroken chain of mistakes and neglect...but Naruto was the one to sway her at long last. If he hadn't been there to pull her in, Sakura most likely would have remained faithful to Sasuke for an eternity. _Maybe it's for the best,_ Sasuke figured in his head as he took one more step. He was fully bathed in the light now, and the guests were no longer funneling in. He was going to be the final one to arrive, and he was going to do it quietly. He would find a place in the back, out of the way and out of sight. He wasn't there to appease anyone, only to see the truth for himself.

He reached up to pull back his hood, his frazzled black hair falling down around his ears and neck before he ran his fingers through the locks to correct their orientation. Sasuke Uchiha was showing his face in Konoha for the first time in three years, and he had an uncertain lump in his throat. He had done well, thus far—he hadn't killed a person or even felt the need for vengeance since his fight with Naruto. The impending night was going to be an extensive test of his willpower, however. He still hadn't _seen_ it, yet he already felt the nagging urge to rip his own heart out and force it to stop thumping in his chest. It was almost starting to _physically hurt_ as he read the sign above the gate one more time. He was in the right place, and it was far too late to turn back. The only way to go was forward. At one minute to eight, he finally crossed the latticed threshold and entered the gathering spot while keeping his chin up and holding his breath.

As he passed under the rice-paper banner of congratulations, the wind blew it around lazily. It flapped without a care, the wobbly sound of the rustling banner filling the otherwise quiet street. Written in orange and pink alternating letters, the sign read: _Congratulations to Naruto Uzumaki and Sakura Haruno! Their wedding ceremony begins tonight at 8:00 p.m. sharp!_

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 **Alright, let's get this ball rolling! I should say that I'm actually a huge fan of Naru-Hina and Sasu-Saku, and I was overjoyed when the canon story ended with those pairings. That said, it left me wondering about what might have happened if things went in the opposite direction. What if Sasuke's constant absence finally wore on Sakura's patient resolve, and what if Naruto was there for her all along? I want to explore how these key characters might have felt and what regrets they might have faced in the aftermath of that pivotal change. There will be sadness and heartbreak, jealousy and rage...conflicts abound, and even a few battles between friends and allies. But of course it's not all going to be bad! This is ultimately going to be a happy story.**


	2. Forever Hold Your Peace

Sasuke's arrival to the wedding was strategically close to the start of its proceedings. His appearance went largely unnoticed, almost disappointingly so. He had expected to make waves with his arrival, but that selfish expectation was quickly subverted by the realization that he was just another noteworthy guest among a plethora of major players from all over the world. Four of the five current Kage were present, and the accompanying guests from each village were spread amongst each other as if there were no such thing as nationalities. Naruto had that effect on people, Sasuke mused—earth, water, fire, wind, lightning, it didn't matter; they shared rows and were clumped into conversational pods up until the moment the greater swell of music picked up to become the start of a classical bridal march.

Sasuke took note of the setup. Neither Naruto nor Sakura had much money to their name, so despite the overwhelming guest turnout, the accommodations of the park were rather small. The chairs were plain and white, made of metal and cheap foam which resulted in the occasional rustling of discomfort from numerous attendees. Sasuke opted to stand, finding a corner along the white fence that was out of the light and far from the focus of the event. He was actually pleased with his anonymity—he didn't actually think he could stand up to very much scrutiny on that evening and still maintain his sanity. He was already seething inside, and he hadn't even _seen_ the bride or groom yet.

Pleasant tones filled the air, courtesy of a hired band from the Land of Lightning...at least, the tones were pleasant until one of the more rambunctious guests joined in with the performers. Sasuke recognized him as the Eight Tails' Jinchuriki, some untalented loudmouth who called himself "Killer Bee." Once the aspiring rapper stood front and center with his rounded shades and over-garnished clothing, Sasuke realized that he was in for a wedding that was a bit less than _traditional_. Not a surprise, given how Naruto was one of the _least_ traditional shinobi in all of history. As the barest consolation, Killer Bee's sudden rapping provided a comforting refuge—the absurdity of the lyrics actually took some of the edge off of Sasuke's irritation. He breathed a quiet sigh and folded his arm behind his back, leaning himself along the fence and keeping one lazy eye open toward the altar that took center stage.

The area itself may have been cramped, but it was lushly decorated with low-cost decorations. There were paper lanterns, some of them a bright pink and others the same bright yellow as a parakeet. The lanterns were hanging from thin threads that were laced back and forth between leafy green trees. There were black-and-white paintings stretched across spots along the fenced-in walls to keep them from seeming too bare, the images portrayed in an art style that Sasuke recognized to be Sai's. The outdoor setting was lovely, though there was the small problem of the _bugs_ who seemed to also want to attend the ceremony. In the corner of Sasuke's eye, seated on the far right of the second row from the front, he caught the Raikage turning on his lightning armor to begin swatting mosquitoes down from the sky with blinding speed.

Mei Terumi, the current Mizukage, had a pretty glum look in her eyes as she surveyed the decorum and merry mood. Her ever-faithful assistant, Chojuro, was at her side patting her shoulder and whispering into her ear as if to calm her down. Sasuke saw Gaara again, smiling and looking entirely unlike the psycho he had fought during the Chunin Exams; his remarkable turnabout from murderer to beloved Kazekage was still a difficult change to accept. Onoki, the Tsuchikage, was there as well, floating off to the side rather than taking up another one of the limited chairs.

The sight of the leaders took Sasuke back to the day of the Five Kage Summit, the place where his own rage had finally reached its peak. The Raikage, whom Sasuke learned was called "Ay," was missing an arm from that conflict, still. Sasuke looked to his own half-there left limb and couldn't resist a smirk at his own expense. Karma had come for him, and he was willingly paying the price for his mistakes. He had been offered a replacement limb, but had refused it for the sake of pride. All the thoughts of replacing his arm with the First Hokage's tissue gave him far too many nauseous flashbacks to Danzo, Madara, and Obito's tendencies to wield such limbs. He stubbornly looked away from becoming anything other than himself. He was Sasuke Uchiha, and that was how he wanted to stay.

As Killer Bee's introductory rap came to a merciful close and a thousand mosquitoes lie dead in a ring around the Raikage's feet, a new song began to settle the restless crowd—it was eight minutes past eight, and the ceremony's actual beginning had come a bit later than expected. Sasuke could imagine Naruto hiding behind a curtain and telling Bee to 'stall them,' and again he caught himself smirking with amusement. Wasn't he supposed to be angry? Why did he have so much hatred for the person he had acknowledged to be his best friend and near-brother?

It all came back to him when the orange-haired hero himself came out from the wings, walking with dignity and dressed in a fine tuxedo which he _must_ have borrowed from somebody else in the village. His hair was cut short, but retained the spikiness of his youth. His face was as cheeky as ever, adorned with the whisker-shaped birthmarks along the sides of his mouth. He hadn't changed much in three years, other than growing a bit taller. He was accompanied by his best man, one Shikamaru Nara, and they both looked like they were quite ready for the wedding to begin. Naruto brought his hand to his mouth and cleared his throat, looking legitimately nervous for the first time that Sasuke could recall since the Forest of Death.

"Thanks for coming, everyone!" Naruto belted out, losing the dignified slow-walk and taking the center of the raised platform that served to call attention to the altar. His greeting was met with modest applause from most, but there was ecstatic whooping from one side of the aisle courtesy of Rock Lee and his wheelchair-bound sensei, Might Guy. Killer Bee couldn't resist a more raucous confirmation either, spitting some rhyme about nuptials, caramels, and not being punctual. The Raikage grabbed his embarrassing brother by the back of the collar and dragged him down to take a seat, looking pretty irritated.

Sasuke scanned the crowd, seeing everybody he expected to see with the exception of one very important figure. He furrowed his brow, but merely assumed that the man in question was either extremely busy, or was going to arrive 'fashionably late' as always. As a form of bland consolation, Sasuke noted that at least the Mizukage was another sour spot in the celebration; Sasuke could tell that she was hesitant to attend a wedding that wasn't her own, and as they said, misery loved company. He focused on her for a while and allowed himself to share silently in her annoyance, but then he caught sight of a third person who seemed rather unhappy. He only saw her from behind, but he could tell by the way her shoulders slumped and her hair pooled that she was looking down into her lap. The rolling of her arms made it seem like she was playing with the hem of her luxurious indigo dress, as if she were anxiously trying to distract herself.

Just as Sasuke considered making a move to see the strange young woman's face, he was cut off by a piercing organ note originating from the stage. He recognized the gradual buildup, which then turned into another classical song, though this one was booming—it was the grand moment, the time for the celebrated bride to enter the scene. There was a large set of two gates built into the perimeter fence, and it had been unavailable as an entrance. The guests had funneled in from two sides, but that third, locked doorway was reserved for the bride herself. As the doorknob flexed and clicked, myriad guests turned their heads, some standing up from their seats to get a good look at the coming radiance.

Sasuke took that moment to look at Naruto, seeing his rather treacherous best friend gulping like he had accidentally begun swallowing an entire apple, but refused to give up the fight and was determined to get it down his throat. Sweat poured over the whiskered cheeks, and he wiped his forehead dry with the black sleeve of his fine wear. Shikamaru looked toward Naruto with a mild sneer—Sasuke's instinct was probably correct; Naruto must have borrowed the suit from the best man and was treating it poorly. Even Mei, stubborn and resentful as she was, couldn't resist turning to behold Sakura's entrance—the doors opened gently, and a cool wind flowed in through the gap. The first sign of her arrival was a flowing white veil, carried by the wind to sneak into view from behind the doorway. Sasuke was in line with the back wall, and he felt himself shrinking backward just a bit to stay out of the limelight.

He didn't have anything to worry about. As Sakura stepped into the open, she stole the show from head to toe. Her cap was adorned with a lovely, frilly white crown that mimicked a ring of flowers, the fluttery white veil giving just the faintest hint of her face beneath in the warm darkness of the spring evening. Her dress was elaborate, leaving her shoulders exposed but also draped by a multi-layered sash that was decorated with pearlescent beads and finely-woven silken embellishments. The flow of the dress really highlighted how Sakura's figure had developed, shifting from being nearly board-like to properly filling out the curvy dress at the chest and hips. The skirt dropped to the red carpet that was laid upon the short grass of the venue, and every step she took was daintily concealed by the velvety garment.

To put Sasuke's reaction into a single word would be doing it a disservice, but he was _stunned_. All of the anger and resentment had been bled out of his heart to stew in different corners of his body for the time being; he felt a weight taken off of his shoulders merely by the proximity of her presence, despite the context of it. Seeing Sakura Haruno, the love of his life, looking so luminous and happy was a legitimately startling experience for the spurned Uchiha. He couldn't even muster a snarl as he watched her follow the path to the altar, which Naruto was still standing upon with obvious jitters. He should have been _livid_ , but all Sasuke could feel was admiration for the woman Sakura had become. She was holding her shoulders wide, hands at waist-level carrying a bouquet of pinkish flowers that matched her hair, which had been kept short but was braided down the sides and woven through with white ribbons.

As Sakura reached the end of her walk, all the eyes in the world seemed to be upon her, from the people in reverent silence all the way up to the moon's sweet, pale glow. Even the insects seemed to have come to a standstill in the moment as the brilliant bride took her place upon the stage beside her groom, and they turned to face one another and locked hands by instinct. It seemed to come to them so naturally, and he had been so surprised by Sakura's riveting entrance that Sasuke hadn't even noticed that Ino Yamanaka was there as her hand-selected maid of honor. There were other women from the village attending to Sakura as she walked, including Tsunade and Shizune who were eventually standing on Sakura's end of the platform in silence.

Through it all, though, Sasuke did notice the oddly-downtrodden woman in the purplish gown, flanked on either side by others with similar hair color. He recognized the type upon a second glance, figuring that _whoever_ she was, she was likely a member of the Hyuuga clan. Again, he felt oddly compelled to slither in closer to her, but at the same time he was greatly appreciating his seclusion—he was several paces away from the deepest row of chairs, and the dark cloak that hung over his shoulders blended well with the poorly-lit corner he had chosen to occupy. Moving at that point would have possibly caught somebody's eye, and he felt vulnerable enough as it was just by being at the wedding at all.

The basics of the marriage process were chewed through by some kind of for-hire wedding officiator. Sakura was given away by her father, and the gleaming golden rings were brought in by a pair of odd, aged-looking toads, a male and female—the amphibians seemed to be arguing under their breath while jointly wielding the ring pillow, and Sasuke surmised that they were a long-married couple, most likely elders who belonged to the same community as Naruto's various toad summons.

At some point, it was time for the vows, and Sasuke felt his heart sink when Sakura looked to Naruto with such a sparkling adoration in her opalescent green eyes. There were tears along the corners of her lids, and she blinked them back before taking a deep breath and speaking with a bashful smile. "Naruto...you've been there for me since the very first time you ever laid eyes on me. I know that we weren't always on the best terms as kids, but you have never _once_ let me down. From our first mission as shinobi to the final hour of the war and beyond, you've had my back no matter what. You've been a rock of support for what feels like my entire life, and your unwavering spirit has helped pull me from my darkest hours. We've shared lots of good times, but also a lot of bad times...and the most important thing is that you _always_ made sure that I wasn't facing the darkness of this world _alone_." She turned her head for just the briefest moment, a cant of her veil and a toss of her hair. The tilt of her eyes fell unmistakeably upon Sasuke, who had thought himself hidden but had quite evidently been noticed by the teary-eyed bride. He felt an insurmountable guilt as she spoke the next few words: "I didn't always see you for who you actually were, but over the years, that changed...and now I can't even _imagine_ a life without you there. I promise to love you forever, to share in everything you do, to give you strength when I can, and to always remember to feed you ramen on Thursday nights." The last remark was punctuated by a smiling wink, and a few polite chuckles emerged from the audience.

Naruto began to recite his own vow, a predictable mash of half-formalities and naïve simplicity. Sasuke didn't hear that vow, though—it was suddenly _his_ turn to gulp and sweat. He had been seen by Sakura without realizing it, and in some odd way he got the sense that her vows were a veiled resentment toward _him_ for leaving her by herself in the village. Not as children, no—but afterward. She had forgiven him already for taking Orochimaru's sinister offer of power, but the way she worded her vow to Naruto... _you_ have _never_ _ **once**_ _let me down; you always made sure that I wasn't facing the darkness of this world_ _ **alone**_ _._ Sasuke felt another pinch in his chest, his own heart rebelling against him. He had let her down so many times...was it really _fair_ of him to expect her love?

Either way, the weight of loss was returning. After the stunned shock of her lustrous entrance and the moving softness of her voice as she recited her personal vow, Sasuke started to feel that gurgling resentment at the back of his mind, the thoughts like a wasp trapped in amber that was stinging its surroundings in desperation. He couldn't allow her to marry Naruto; he _had_ to be given his final say on the matter, celebrations be damned. Sakura belonged with _him_ , not with the Kyuubi-host!

In his seething, Sasuke had missed out on the "I do" portion of the ceremony, though his mind later told him that he had, in fact, heard those two little words from each participant. After that, Sasuke was left only with the most crucial spot of every traditional wedding service: "If anyone present should object to this union, then speak now, or forever hold your peace."

Sasuke had _something_ to say, and he actually took a step forward with his arm beginning to raise. He was going to object; he was going to make a complete and utter fool of himself because he just couldn't squash the jealousy in his heart. He knew it had been a mistake to show up at all, but he was _there_ , and he was being given his final chance to protest and _damn it,_ he was going to make use of it. However, just as his mouth opened, he felt a presence at his back and a heavy hand capped over his lips, blocking the first sound and maintaining silence after that. Sasuke's body remained relaxed; he knew was in no danger, and his defenses were further disarmed when he cut his eyes to the left to glance over his shoulder at one of the very few men or women left alive who could even _hope_ to sneak up on the skilled Uchiha.

"Don't do it, Sasuke." The hand upon Sasuke's mouth was covered by a fingerless glove, the man's attire not all that remarkable, especially for a person in his position _and_ one attending a wedding. He was the Lord Hokage, the sixth person to hold that title and perhaps the only person with enough insight to see what was about to come out of Sasuke's mouth before it actually did. Kakashi Hatake knew his student better than the student himself might have realized. "I know this is hard for you, but this is their big moment...let them enjoy it; don't make a scene." He gradually lowered his hand from Sasuke's mouth, though if the Uchiha had wanted to free himself it would have taken little more than a gentle nudge.

From the other end of the sectioned-off park land, the words were spoken: "I now pronounce you husband and wife! You may kiss the bride!" Applause erupted, and Sasuke had missed his chance. Perhaps it was for the best.

Sasuke seemed to relent, his mouth closed and his arm lowering to his side again in the wake of the finishing sentence of the ceremony. "You're late, as usual," Sasuke said, trying to distract himself from the discomfort of realizing that Sakura was no longer _his_ Sakura Haruno, but had become Naruto's Sakura Uzumaki.

"The Hokage is a busy man," Kakashi said back, with a fair amount of humor in his voice. He was obviously aware that the other four Kage had all arrived on time or early for the ceremony, and that their trips were quite a bit more substantial than his. "Truthfully, I knew you'd come... _and_ I had a feeling that you'd try to protest."

Sasuke narrowed his eyes, looking at Kakashi like he felt betrayed. "So you avoided being seen outside so you wouldn't make a scene when you stepped in to shut me up..." The Uchiha rolled his eyes, keeping his attention away from the platform front and center—Naruto and Sakura were sharing their first kiss as husband and wife, and it was quite a passionate one. The seated crowd loved it, save for the Mizukage and the black-haired Hyuuga girl. "You're pretty shrewd when it comes to public perception, Lord Sixth," Sasuke said curtly, trying to force himself to speak with respect.

Kakashi sighed from behind his mask, both dark eyes looking toward the newlyweds who were waving and posing for photographs. "Every time somebody calls me that, I feel a little bit older." He gave Sasuke a pat on the shoulder and then looked out over the crowd. "There's going to be a reception a couple of blocks over from here. Are you planning to go?"

Sasuke shook his head, solemnly looking to the grass. "No...I think I'm going to leave the village right away. I've seen what I came to see."

Kakashi gave another hum, shoving his hands disappointedly into his pockets. "That's a shame. There are a lot of people who would like to see you again—Naruto and Sakura most of all. I'd hate to tell them that you _were_ here, but left without saying hello."

As he always did when he found himself hosting deep thoughts, Sasuke tried to flex his left hand, but nothing happened—of course nothing happened; after all, he didn't _have_ a left hand anymore, but old habits died hard and three years couldn't quite convince him that he _actually_ only had one arm. Naruto, on the other hand, was waving to the crowd with a bandaged right arm that seemed to work just as well as the old one did. Looking back toward his former teacher, Sasuke sighed with resignation. "Alright...I'll stop by, but I doubt I'll stay very long."

"Perfect," Kakashi answered, giving Sasuke another, more enthusiastic pat on the shoulder. "Spring is wedding season, after all. We single folks ought to stick together at a time like this." The crowd was starting to disperse; the photos had been taken and the announcement of the reception had been made, so the bride and groom were carted off by the mob to lead the charge. Kakashi watched them leave and the air got gradually quieter in the mean time.

After a few moments of silence, Sasuke looked toward the Hokage and formed a knowing smirk. "You just want to use me as a _shield_...do you hate social gatherings _that_ much?"

Kakashi closed his eyes and turned his head downward, his hair falling like the streaks of a silver meteor shower around his forehead. " _Maybe_ I'd rather be reading, but as the Hokage, I can't miss my own student's wedding after-party...and _you_ can't afford to be the only member of our team not to show up—even Sai and Yamato are headed over there. Think of how it would look to the members of other villages if the last of the Uchiha, one of the original members of Team 7, _and_ one half of the pair that saved the entire world didn't bother to go to his _best friend's_ wedding reception."

Sasuke scoffed, stepping away from Kakashi once the stragglers had all filed out. Once again he intended to be the last one through the gate, hoping to find that the party had started without him and that the social circles would already have been formed. He so very much hated _mingling_. Before he left, though, he halted for a second and looked over his shoulder toward his mentor: "Thanks for stopping me..." he whispered begrudgingly, barely heard over the quiet breeze of the night.

Kakashi quietly nodded his reply: "I know it must feel like you're facing the end of the world right now, but life will keep on going, and you'll feel better in no time if you just _let_ yourself feel better. Trust me on this one..." and then the two of them made their way toward the revelry that was filling the streets and spreading through what seemed to be the entire village. With all the happiness abound, Sasuke had almost forgotten that his life was forever altered—he could no longer look forward to returning home to Sakura's embrace. Konoha, the village of his birth, had _nothing_ more to offer him...so why did he even agree to go to the reception? He had fulfilled his obligations to his team and to himself; he had helplessly borne witness as the vapor of his dreams rose into the atmosphere and was dispersed permanently. Just like he had always pleasantly imagined on boring afternoons, Sakura was suddenly a married woman—yet in the twisted reality of that night, she had been somehow married to somebody _else_. Not even the "I do" that had come out of his beloved Sakura's own mouth was enough to convince him that it was anything more than a feverish nightmare.

Maybe the relentless cacophony of a wedding party would finally be enough to rouse him from the deep sleep that he _prayed_ was hosting that terrible dream.

* * *

 **I hope you all liked that; another chapter will be coming soon.**


	3. Restlessness

**I'd like to start this chapter out with a brief word of thanks. I've been loving the massive influx of support so far, whether it be in the form of reviews, follows, favorites, private messages, or even just views! From the beginning, this one has been designed for the long haul, and all the feedback is making it even easier to stay motivated. Thanks a ton to _everybody_ who reads this.**

* * *

Sasuke stepped into the reception area, and he had a forced smile on his face thanks mostly to Kakashi's urging: _Smile, be friendly; don't let them see you as the criminal they expect you to be,_ he had said _._ The reluctant guest admitted to himself that the Hokage had a point—most of the people in the village hadn't yet forgiven him for his defection to Orochimaru six years earlier. Because he had taken a 3-year 'vacation' from the Leaf even _after_ his eventual first return, he was still in the process of repairing his damaged image. Although it hardly mattered to Sasuke what others thought of him as an individual, he recognized himself as the sole bearer of the Uchiha clan's legacy and the only one able to properly revive the family name. If securing his bloodline's legacy meant that he would have to do and say nice things from time to time, it was a sacrifice he thought he was willing to make.

Sasuke took a long, hard look around the plaza to find that it was no more luxurious than the wedding venue, though it was larger. Dozens if not hundreds of guests were spread densely through the rectangular meeting spot; it was an outdoor gathering as well, but there were no bugs to act as nuisances that time. Insect-repellant candles were being burned, their wicks freshly lit and the wax only shallowly melted—perhaps somebody had hastily made arrangements to avoid having the Raikage make another scene of chopping the defenseless bugs out of the sky.

The first one to approach Sasuke after his belated arrival was an old 'friend,' the Kazekage named Gaara. The sand village's head was alone, his bodyguards off conversing with other attendees. The young Kage's husky voice pierced the din of conversation and commanded attention, and Sasuke was the sole target of his address. "It's been a long time since I've seen those eyes, Sasuke Uchiha..."

There was a dourness to the way the sandman spoke, but Sasuke was rather unfazed. "It's been too long," he replied, again trying to be as polite as he could muster. "You seem to be doing very well for yourself."

Gaara smiled genuinely. "Everything good about who I am today is thanks to Naruto's encouragement. As I hear it, _you_ owe him a great deal of gratitude, as well?" Great, just what Sasuke needed—a sopping helping of Naruto praise at a moment where he couldn't have possibly been more _frustrated_ with the brat. Gaara could seemingly pick up on that deeply rooted irritation, and his black-rimmed eyes narrowed to focus on Sasuke's own. "Is there something wrong?"

Sasuke calmly brought his hand up to cover his eyes, rubbing them firmly and shaking his head. The weather was warm, and the clouds overhead had dispersed to make room for the gleaming stars against the black abyss of space. Truthfully, the night was as gorgeous as one could hope for. One more time, Sasuke questioned just why he was so angry—after all, hadn't he been the one to condemn himself to solitude in the first place? When he answered Gaara's question, he lied. "I'm fine, Gaara of the Sand, I'm only exhausted from my journey...actually, I've only just arrived from the Land of Earth as of a moment before the wedding began." He gave a tense smile, and Gaara saw through its falsity but decided not to make it an issue.

The Kazekage reached a hand out to settle it on Sasuke's shoulder, squeezing strong fingers against the seldom-used left slant on Sasuke's body. "I haven't had the chance to thank you for your part in saving this world, yet. We have had our disagreements in the past," perhaps the understatement of the century, "but we've both come very far since those days. I'd like you to know that you're welcome in my village any time that you'd like to visit."

Sasuke gave a nod, tempted to brush Gaara's hand away but refraining. _Think happy thoughts, get through this without hurting anyone...easy, right?_ He disciplined himself, speaking aloud with a much different tone than his self-checking musings: "I'll take you up on that offer sometime, Lord Kazekage."

Gaara smiled, still looking absolutely genuine, and then he silently turned to step away and began to visit with other guests. Sasuke blew a sigh, wiping his forehead of mild sweat as it dewed over his brow. Upon taking another look around, Sasuke could see that there were numerous circular tables arranged throughout the party, and he figured that if there was _any_ way to avoid having more idle chatter thrown at him, it was to find a table and plant himself at it.

He hastily wove himself through the crowd, looking for Kakashi. _We single folks ought to stick together, right?_ Sasuke smirked, intending to use the Hokage as his own sort of 'shield' to avoid the random approach of unwanted visitors. He spotted the unmistakeable silver hair a few yards further ahead, managing to avoid undesired contact until he was a mere three steps from planting himself in a chair alongside his former sensei. This time, he was stopped by one of the people he _really_ didn't want to see: Kiba Inuzuka.

Before the canine-minded fellow even opened his mouth, Sasuke rolled his eyes as he found him blocking the path to the salvation of a seat. "Kiba," the unamused Uchiha said to him with strained courtesy.

Kiba was immediately confrontational; he threatened to start the very scene that Sasuke was afraid of. "You've got too much nerve showing up here, Sasuke," Kiba snarled, baring the fangs on the corners of his mouth and clenching his fists at either side of his waist. Akamaru was nowhere to be seen, but Sasuke knew the canine had come to the party—he could still smell the faintest layer of wet dog that overlapped with Kiba's own.

"I was invited," Sasuke curtly retorted, stopping in his walk for courtesy's sake, but _wanting_ to simply nudge the shameless troublemaker out of the way. _Peaceful thoughts._

"Everybody makes mistakes, even Naruto..." Kiba sneered, his upper right lip curving into a snarl as his head lowered. Everything about his posture made it seem like he was ready to pounce, but Sasuke knew better—not even _that_ famously hot-headed individual was stupid enough to attack him, and especially not at such a high-profile wedding event. Kiba's cheeks were notably rosy, no doubt the result of the wine and champagne that was being passed around. If he was drunk, that explained things. Kiba didn't seem to realize that his game was already up, so he was still going through the motions of looking intimidating. "I think we'd all appreciate it if you were to just _leave_ , damned Uchiha..."

Since he was already irritated by the circumstances of the wedding itself, Kiba's antics had managed to scratch at the back of Sasuke's resolve and actually elicited the smallest possible twitch at the base of his right eyelid. "I'll leave when I've fulfilled my obligations to my _team,_ and my _village,_ and I'd appreciate it if you were to let me get past you."

"Ha! You're still calling this your village...? Nah, you're gonna have to _make me move_ ," Kiba challenged gruffly. Beneath the posturing, Sasuke could see that the muscles in his apparent rival's neck were tense in an odd way, his eyes lightly flicking left to right. Kiba was nervous, and it didn't even take a Sharingan to see the signs. Sasuke was already a hair's breadth away from obliging the bluster, but thankfully he didn't _need_ to. Kakashi came to his 'rescue' with a polite pat on Kiba's head from behind.

"Sasuke, I'm glad you made it! I've been saving your seat for you," Kakashi said pleasantly while he gestured toward an open chair—and it was more than just a quickly-concocted escape route. In fact, Sasuke saw that there was indeed a folded paper name card hung over the back of his intended place. It said 'Sasuke Uchiha' in thick letters, and it even bore the drawn and colored symbol of his clan. The label wasn't something that was drawn up on the fly after his arrival at the wedding itself; no, somebody put time and effort into representing his spot in advance. In that moment, Sasuke was deeply thankful to himself for choosing to bear the pain of showing up. He didn't want to think of the snickers that might have filled the room if that chair was reserved, yet went woefully unfilled through the entire night.

"Thanks, Kakashi," Sasuke said as his second show of gratitude of that day. He stepped around Kiba, who had been practically neutered by the Hokage's personal attention, shrunken down like a punished puppy. Kakashi had a way of being friendly while also being stern, and that old trick seemed to come in handy when dealing with the more roughshod members of the village. Sasuke took his place in the offered chair and lifted the placard away from the backrest, folding it over once and gently tucking it into a large pocket on the inside of the travel cloak he still wore. He decided that it would make a nice souvenir, if nothing else.

With Kiba sent on his way, Kakashi took his seat again beside Sasuke's reservation. The table was small and decorated with a white waterproof cloth which was a bit filmy to the touch. The food was predictable enough to bring a smile to Sasuke's face—ramen in a cup, distributed evenly to each table, one per chair. There was also a slender slice of cake to accompany each helping and a glass of complementary (and cheap) wine to wash it down. "I guess I would have expected a hero's wedding to be a bit more _elaborate_ ," Sasuke thought aloud as he thumbed the steaming, papery cup in front of him.

Kakashi hummed, leaning back in his chair and folding his hands behind his head. "I offered to take some funds out of the village's coffers to pay for the wedding—they'd have been expected to pay it back over time, of course—but they both turned it down. Besides, I think the guest list makes it a pretty elaborate service on its own, don't you?"

With a nod, Sasuke took another survey of the area. There were more people at the reception than were at the wedding, leaving him with another sense of guilt. He almost hadn't come, and it was all because of spiteful jealousy. No, it was more than just jealousy—it was mourning, mourning for his own heart. For years, his blood pumped hotly with thoughts of Sakura trickling through his veins. She was a huge part of his motivation for wanting to save their world. Even as he tried to kill Naruto at the end of the war, he had intentionally excluded her from the conflict. He thought momentarily back to the genjutsu which he had used to disable her, and he had to admit in retrospect that it was a bit _much_.

"I'm surprised all of the Kages could make it," Sasuke acknowledged openly, reaching for a pair of chopsticks to weave into the fingers of his right hand. If he was going to be there, he might as well eat something, even if it _was_ cheap ramen. He scooped up a hearty load of the noodles and swallowed them down with an audible slurp. It tasted a bit like cardboard, probably having been stewing in its cup for a bit too long, but it was edible at least. "Sakura must be thrilled to have so many eyes on her: proud ones, admiring ones, _jealous_ ones..."

Kakashi was masked, but he was smirking, and the faint outline of his lips could be seen against the black cloth. "She's been running on full blast for weeks; I haven't seen her so excited since the day she realized that she was going to be on your team, Sasuke."

And yet, she was more excited about Naruto now. "I'm happy for them," Sasuke forced out. He hadn't yet been able to look toward the newlyweds for fear of losing his composure, but he did it by instinct as the conversation was steered toward them. Sakura was heaving a piece of white cake into Naruto's mouth, practically choking him with the size of the portion. Not to be outdone, Naruto turned the stuffed mouth of cake into a kiss that smothered Sakura's own mouth and chin and dropped crumbs and frosting down the front of her dress. It was a sweet, innocent little exchange that made Sasuke's blood _boil_. Every time he saw her smile, saw her eyes twinkle with happiness, he realized that _he_ had never genuinely made her feel that way.

Thinking about his failings made his head spin dangerously, and he clutched his chopsticks a bit too hard in his anger, causing one of them to snap in half between his fingers. His eyes had unwittingly transformed from plain black pupils into red irises with comma-shaped beads along a secondary black circle. He had been avoiding the shift, clearly knowing that the Sharingan was a sight that made many people uncomfortable, but for that moment he couldn't keep the urge concealed. Naruto had _stolen_ Sakura from him...and he wasn't going to stand for that anymore.

His left eye further transformed, changing from a red globe to a black and red mesh pattern, then further into a grayish-purple row of concentric circles that were each lined with three of the same commas. _Amaterasu..._ he thought in his head, the corner of his left eye forming a trickle of blood as he focused harshly upon Naruto Uzumaki's grinning countenance. _He'll burn for this—_ and then suddenly Sasuke realized what was happening and clapped his hand over his eye, gasping with the chilling gravity of what he had nearly done. Not only was the idea foolish because Amaterasu was not _nearly_ enough to finish Naruto in the first place...but the thought that he had legitimately come within a half a second of _trying_ to hurt Naruto was terrifying. Was he that far gone, and without even noticing it? Seeing Naruto with Sakura, Sasuke's _own beloved Sakura,_ was calling out the darkness within. The curse of hatred that the Uchiha name carried along with it hadn't been entirely eradicated...it was a daily struggle for Sasuke to control it, and he had come _that_ close to failing.

As he wiped his eye, he deactivated his chakra and returned each socket to their plain black discs, looking to his hand as it came away from his face, and he noted the thin streak of red blood that layered his fingers. It hadn't been a hallucination or some kind of fantasy; his eye was truly going to fire based on selfish instinct alone. Sasuke abruptly stood up, fortunately not having been noticed by any of the guests during his moment of weakness. Not even Kakashi had noticed from arm's length away. "I need to take a walk," the sweating Uchiha declared hastily, turning himself away from the table and hopping over the nearest fence that framed the gathering. Kakashi tried to call out to him, but the notion went unheard. Sasuke didn't have the patience to find a gate, that time. More than anything, he needed to get away from that cruel place as quickly as possible.

He didn't go entirely too far. He could still hear the low murmur of an elated crowd by the time he stopped in a collection of trees and grass that was growing freely between streets and houses within the village. He found a high branch, the tree itself shuddering as he aggressively climbed its trunk, then plopped himself down roughly beside an opening in the leaves. He felt hidden and safe, alone like he preferred—he could see the moon through the small gap in the foliage, and he trembled from head to toe. "That was close," he muttered to himself, eyes glued to the drying blood on his hand. "I shouldn't have come back..."

While he was busy pitying himself, he thought he heard a faint sniffle. It could easily have been the wind, and his senses were so muddied after the surging adrenaline of his close call that he initially wrote it off as a trick of his ears. He closed his eyes, breathing quickly and trying to settle himself down. _Peaceful thoughts...be happy for them..._ No amount of self-reassurance was enough to help him come to terms with the outcome of that night. He was both thankful and enraged that Kakashi had stopped him from protesting. Similarly, he almost wished he had fired off his flames at Naruto and made a quick exit. He could have disappeared quickly with the power of his Rinnegan, and could have then resolved to never return. Naruto would survive, and Sakura would forever hate Sasuke due to the senseless betrayal...but maybe he would _rather_ have been removed entirely from both of their lives than be forced to see them so happy together.

As he filled his head with dire thoughts, he heard that quiet snuffle once again, that time accompanied by a quivering exhale. There was no mistaking it, anymore—it was the voice of a young woman trying to hold in tears and doing a pretty poor job. On top of that, she wasn't very far away. Sasuke was sure that he hadn't been followed, so she must have already been out there when he came along, and she probably didn't even notice him. _Oh well, it isn't my problem_ , Sasuke thought as he closed his eyes and leaned himself against the trunk of the tree, dozens of feet off the ground and away from the pressure of the social event of the year.

He liked the solitude, he liked the calm. He wanted nothing more than a life of quiet peace, one without war or hatred, empty of jealousy or rage. How had his ambitions been so easily squashed by a simple wedding? Maybe it wasn't so _simple_ , but it was still an everyday occurrence from a worldly perspective. "Be happy for them," Sasuke said aloud to himself, barely higher than a whisper. "Naruto's a good person. She'll be well treated, right?" He had hoped that narrating the situation in his own voice would somehow settle him down, but he could only resent his very own mouth for even saying such a thing. Coping was proving to be a lot more difficult than he had expected.

Again, that quivering whimper sounded through the leaves, and he couldn't will himself to ignore it any longer. Perhaps helping some girl fetch a cat out of a tree would help to soothe his nerves. He needed _something_ that wasn't connected to Naruto, or to Sakura, or to the wedding, or even the village itself—he wanted something plain and simple, the kind of one-time interactions that he came across during his global travels. When he was on the road he could meet a person, share a few words, perform a kindness, and then be on his way. Life was so much simpler when he was just another face in the crowd, totally detached from the people of one particular village or the next. Maybe he was always _destined_ to wander by himself—maybe, just _maybe_ , the wedding was fate's way of telling him not to consider himself to be a member of Konoha any longer.

With that state of mind permeating his thoughts, Sasuke stood from his perch to seek out the source of the sorrowful echoes.

* * *

Before Kakashi could even stand up to go after Sasuke, his attention was pulled to the front of his then-empty table, a thick, sinewy fist wrapped in bronzed skin landing abruptly onto the surface. The impact rattled the drinking glasses and spilled ramen from the two open cups. It was Ay, the Raikage, and he was flanked by the other three acting village heads: Gaara, Onoki, and Mei. "Hokage, we have something we'd like to suggest to you," the burly, imposing male said with stern implication. "And since we're all gathered here, there can be no better time for a quick catchup meeting. Agreed?" Ay asked aggressively as he dropped himself into a chair that nearly buckled under his substantial weight.

Gaara gave a semi-worried glance toward his fellow Kage's precarious seating choice, though he took a seat as well and folded his hands together above propped elbows. Mei took a seat beside Ay and Onoki opted to remain hovering—his back problems had been getting worse in recent years, and it was troubling for him to move around too much. Gaara was the one to actually offer the suggestion alluded to by the Raikage, the four having voted on who was most likely to warrant Kakashi's attention. "The world is closer to peace than it has ever been, Lord Hokage, and I'm sure you've noticed it. We're overjoyed that the villages have been cooperating so smoothly over these past few years, but the lack of conflict has left certain parties... _restless_."

Kakashi listened intently, rolling his right shoulder and tilting his neck to crack a few joints in his spine. He looked to each Kage in turn; they weren't as grave-faced as he might have expected, given the sudden urge to approach him out of the blue, so the restlessness must not have been understated. "Restless...you mean they want to start a war?"

Gaara shook his head, smiling softly. "No, nothing like that...the Chunin exams have continued, and that gives our genin a chance to show their might and prove themselves to their peers and superiors, but as the wars have died down and the missions dried up, the more experienced shinobi of our villages have been left thirsty for excitement."

Kakashi gave a nod. "Yes, I've been noticing the same thing within Konoha, as well. There's a fine line between peace and boredom, and I think we've gotten close to crossing it. That said, I assume the four of you have already talked about this without me, otherwise I wouldn't be the only one listening...what have you decided to suggest?"

Mei made a flippant remark from between puffed cheeks: "Well, if you had shown up to the wedding _early_ enough, you wouldn't have missed out on all of our conversations..."

Gaara cut his eyes quietly over to the Mizukage, ensuring that she was finished before he started up again. Even he, the youngest of the Kage, could see that the woman amongst them was highly jealous of the wedding, but there was nothing _he_ could do about that. He allowed her to simmer over it for a while, looking toward Kakashi again when the awkward glances had passed. "We want Konoha to host a tournament for all of the strongest fighters from each nation. We don't intend for it to be a _serious_ competition, only a voluntary exercise to let off steam for those who'd like to participate."

The Hokage didn't have an answer to the Mizukage's comment about his tardiness, so he settled on putting a hand in front of his mask and clearing his throat. "Fair point," he mumbled, then to Gaara, he put on a stern slant of his eyebrows. "Shouldn't the Land of Earth be chosen as the host? They have much more land to spare, and I doubt the Chunin Exams arena will be adequate for the competitors we'll end up seeing here. Lord Raikage, your brother by himself would necessitate an area nearly the size of Konoha itself,and that's without even _mentioning_ Naruto or Sasuke's power..."

Onoki was the one to answer that time, since his nation was the one called into question. His crotchety old voice had gotten a bit softer, a bit shakier, but he still naturally demanded attention whenever his mouth opened: "We've already discussed certain limitations for the tournament that would serve to make the Exam stadium effective as a venue. As for choosing the Leaf, you must realize that it's the closest of the villages to each of the others. Basing our tournament in the Land of Fire would make traveling much easier on the participants from the lands of Water and Lightning."

Kakashi shut his eyes, feeling like the logic was too sound for him to argue against. "Such an event sounds like it'd be expensive, and truthfully, with the village's funds being channeled largely into technological developments, we've been a bit strapped for cash. The missions aren't flowing like they used to. We haven't gotten any A-rank mission requests since the war ended, and the remaining B-ranks and below don't pay enough to keep a village afloat without making cutbacks."

Ay scoffed, laying his arm across his chest while leaning back in his tenuously-stable chair. "We would _all_ do equal parts to fund the tournament and make this happen, Hokage—you can stop with your _excuses_!" He was the perpetually angry one of the bunch, but even _he_ didn't seem entirely serious with his chastising. Kakashi couldn't recall a Five Kage meeting that had ever had such _levity_ before. They were discussing a properly-friendly competition, not some wild political maneuver; on top of that, they were already willing to contribute equal amounts of funding to the cause, an honest and true sign of cooperation. Maybe there really _was_ peace approaching in their time at last.

Fresh out of decent excuses, Kakashi couldn't see the harm in hosting such a tournament—in fact, he had been considering different ways to alleviate laziness and boredom as well. The Chunin Exams were all well and good, but where the adults had once been kept busy with high-profile missions, they were suddenly left with turning knobs and cranks within the village to help develop larger residential centers along the plateau behind the Hokage Monument. A change of pace could do some good.

With a sigh of mock-defeat, Kakashi gave a nod and provided his answer. "Alright, I think we can make this happen. I'll need time to arrange it, of course. Start sending in your proposals for competitors and event schedules—we'll need to do a lot of collaborating to plan this in a way that's agreeable to all of us—oh, and one more thing: I'm going to need a list of the limitations you said you've discussed."

Mei reached into the sleeve of her delicate blue gown, fetching a folded piece of plain white paper and handing it over to Kakashi. She looked like she was trying to get his attention, leaning over the table with her low-cut bosom on display and her lipstick-coated lips turned into a fetching smile. "We figured you would want to see it right away," she said with a come-hither tone, "since most of the rules only apply to members of _your_ village."

Kakashi seemed oblivious to the Mizukage's advances, or else he was just politely pretending not to be disturbed. Either way, he unfolded the paper and began reading, checking off the list of rules in his head and blinking a few times. "I see...well then, I'll show this to the relevant parties and see if I can secure their participation."

The other four Kages gave a nod in unison, all smiling with the satisfaction of accomplishing something in record time. None of them could have previously imagined a world where such a huge event could be agreed upon during the time-span of one song at a wedding party, but Naruto's friendly, compelling spirit had legitimately brought about a true change to the shinobi world. Whether they said it aloud or not, every living person seemed to understand that they owed that young fox-boy a _tremendous_ debt of gratitude.

"We'll be in touch," Gaara said with a bow, then turned to join his two bodyguards on the other side of the grouping. Ay and Onoki wandered off shortly after, leaving Kakashi alone with Mei, who seemed intent on making the wedding somehow worthwhile.

"Say, Lord Hokage, I don't think I ever noticed how _handsome_ you look in that mask," Mei slurred out. Upon closer inspection, she had a rose color to her cheeks that mimicked that of Kiba a short while earlier. "Whaddya say we take a _peek_ underneath?" she added with one hand stretching out to reach for Kakashi's mask.

Kakashi wasn't sure what to do or say, so he just...stared. Thankfully Chojuro, the ever-watchful assistant to the Mizukage, showed up to put his hand on her shoulder, and politely turned her toward him. "Erm, milady, I think that _Might Guy_ was looking for you..." he offered as a distraction, looking to Kakashi to offer a knowing wink from behind his boxy glasses. Kakashi gave a nod of thanks and a relieved sigh when the amorous lady made an 'ooooh' sound, then she wandered off to find poor Guy instead.

By the end of that conversation, Kakashi's thoughts were filled with logistics and scheduling issues. A napkin at his table was quickly drafted for use as a sketchpad for preliminary ideas. Engrossed in the new plans, he had all but forgotten about Sasuke's sudden departure.

* * *

Sasuke didn't have to wander far to reach the epicenter of the tears. He kept himself quiet, always aware of traps and ambushes—he was a high-value target in the book of a person who might want to make a name for himself, and using a crying girl was the oldest trick in the book for poorly-trained assassins. After scoping out the area and finding nothing amiss, Sasuke's attention fell upon the girl herself, huddled over with her knees to her forehead and her arms tightly wrapped around her shins. She was in the dark, carefully tucked away from the light of the moon as if the shade would keep her hidden from view.

She was dressed immaculately, her dress shimmering even in the darkness with small dots of silvery embellishments. It was cut modestly, rising up to the base of her neck and over her shoulders while the skirt reached down to her ankles, even when her legs were curled up. After a moment of drawing a blank, Sasuke recognized her indigo-hued gown from the wedding itself, and had only just then realized that the somber young woman from the service hadn't been a part of the reception.

He didn't get his wish for a _total_ distraction from the wedding, but at least he thought he might have somebody he could possibly get away with being _miserable_ around. He wasn't ready to go back to the party, but he also wasn't sure that it was in his best interest to interrupt the obviously-emotional runaway guest. As far as being depressed that day, they were in the same boat, though Sasuke's emotions were more reserved—his eyes were dry, except for the lingering specks of blood on the left side that he hadn't fully wiped away.

After deciding that being _here_ was better than being _there_ , and with nothing left to lose, Sasuke spoke to her from a few paces away. He kept himself concealed in the shadows and called to her with the softest, most warming whisper he could manage:

"Hey...are you alright?"

* * *

 **That's all for now! The next one will be up pretty soon.**


	4. Tomorrow

**Another thank you is in order: I've been blown away by the amount of feedback this story has been getting. I appreciate every word, every click—you guys are really making me happy, here! In exchange for that, I hope I can provide something that you all love to read. Thanks again, and enjoy the chapter!**

* * *

"Hey...are you alright?" Sasuke cautiously murmured. He knew for sure that the poor, sobbing thing _wasn't_ alright, but he couldn't comment or ask on anything further than that until she told him about what was wrong.

The girl didn't say anything to him. She tensed at the shoulders and hugged her shins a little tighter as if she were trying to curl up into a ball and disappear. Despite her efforts, though, Sasuke could still see her. Now that he was closer than he had been at the wedding itself, he realized that the hair he had previously seen as black was actually tinted with a rich, dark blue. The velvety shade was especially apparent when compared against the dark shadows surrounding her. Sasuke wasn't put off by her refusal to respond, and in fact he stepped to a tree beside where she was wallowing, leaning his weightless left shoulder against the bark. "Did somebody hurt you?" he inquired more specifically, leaving it open in that 'hurt' could be taken in any number of ways.

She shook her head, the long strands of her hair wildly spilling across her face and keeping her eyes hidden from view. "N-no, I'm okay..." she choked out in a voice that sounded so timid and frail that a falling leaf could have split each word down the middle. "You can go back to the party now..." she added, perhaps naively thinking that she herself was the reason he had come out in the first place.

"There's nothing there for me right now," Sasuke scowled, casting a sorrowful glance toward the dim yellow glow of candles that illuminated the celebration beyond the fence. "You're part of the Hyuuga clan, aren't you?" he wondered. He wanted to keep her talking, wanted to see her take her head out of her knees and engage him, but she was already too comfortable with staying in a somber mood. The pair had that much in common with each other.

After one more wrack of stifled sobbing, the girl nodded against the tear-stained silk of her dress across her kneecaps. "Y-yes," she said, stuttering again. That wasn't very much to build upon, but Sasuke wasn't in a hurry to go anyplace else. Either she was overcome by grief or she was naturally shy—likely a mix of both. Sasuke thought about his days in the village, days that seemed like they were from an entirely different lifetime, and he remembered vague experiences with a particularly timid member of the Hyuuga family. He recalled the outline of a face, the wispy air of her voice, but he couldn't summon up her name.

He tried another approach: "You know, I was thinking...sitting here in the dark isn't the right way to show off the lovely dress you're wearing. You ought to at least let it shimmer in the light."

Not even a glance. She didn't seem to care about the niceties; whatever was bothering her was probably something more profound than everyday loneliness or run-of-the-millwedding blues. Sasuke concluded that it would take more than idle flirtations to lift her out of her sadness. He turned his head away from her, realizing that he didn't actually _know_ very much about cheering people up. He grumbled into the night, as if to chastise himself for even trying. He couldn't even get over his _own_ bitterness, so what was he going to do about somebody else?

He brought his hand up to his forehead, rubbing his temple and letting himself slide down the rough bark of the tree to park himself on the grass. He was a bit more than arm's reach away from the girl whose name he was still trying to recall. He wanted to call her by her name—wanted to make her feel significant—but he just couldn't remember it no matter how hard he tried. Another failure, then. He found himself sinking back into a pit of depression, and without meaning to say it _quite_ as loudly as he did, he muttered to himself under his breath: "You're a damned mess, Sasuke...no _wonder_ she married him instead..."

That seemed to get the girl's attention, her head lifting gently out from between her risen knees. She turned her face delicately to look over her shoulder, finally seeing who had come to speak to her. She whispered : "Y-you're Sasuke?"

Hearing his name was enough to drag him out of self-loathing, at least long enough to look at her. At first glance he could tell that she was indeed the girl whose face he was recalling from the past. The sight was a bit funny to him—growing up, he had always been disturbed by the appearance of the Byakugan. The pale white discs seemed, at least to him, like they were empty and soulless. That girl's eyes seemed different, though. Perhaps it was the puffy, crying redness of her lids or the darkness of the night, but Sasuke felt like he could see something _more_ in the single grayish-white pool she turned his way. "That's right," Sasuke said after a long pause. "I'm Sasuke Uchiha."

"I know who you are..." the girl said to him, bringing her hand up to wipe at her cheeks and haphazardly dry the tears away. She was still huddled forward, still trying to disappear in the blackness, but she kept half of a side-long gaze tilted toward the recognized intruder. "We were in the same class at the Academy," she pointed out for clarification, then turned bashful again before looking away, her skittish attention focused on a cricket that was chirping innocently in the nearby shrubs. "...if you even remember."

"How could I forget?" Sasuke replied disingenuously. He remembered that she was part of his class, but still didn't remember her _name_. "It has been a long time since then, but I remember _everything_ about the Academy." After a moment of consideration, Sasuke had to inwardly admit that he had never paid the Hyuuga girl any mind during classes. She was never a major player in the Academy—decent grades but low combat skill, noteworthy lineage but little to personally set herself apart from it. She lost her first one-versus-one match in the Chunin Exams, and that was all he knew about her for sure. Was she named Hatano? Nah, but maybe it was Hanabi...no, that's the _other_ _one's_ name. Through a reluctant sigh, he spoke again: "I have to apologize; I know your face, but..." It was confession time. "I don't remember what your name is." He winced , and was glad that she was looking at the cricket; he didn't want her to see the awkwardness on his face when he admitted how little he actually noticed her before.

Thankfully, she didn't seem offended. Sasuke had to wonder what it actually would have taken for somebody to rile her up; he knew she was the type who was always soft-spoken and genuine, not one to protest very loudly even when she disagreed with something. "It's Hinata," she said after a deep breath to gather herself. "Hinata Hyuuga."

"Hinata...that's right, I remember now," he said, this time with real honesty, and sounding a bit too proud of himself. "You're the Hyuuga clan's heiress, aren't you?"

She shook her head. "No...I _was_ , but not anymore..."

Another swing and a miss. First her name, then her status as an heir...Sasuke _really_ needed to learn how to bat right-handed...and also _one_ -handed. "Sorry..." he said, running his fingers anxiously through his mopped hair. He must have still been a bundle of misfiring nerves after the near-miss at the reception, because he normally didn't feel so awkward trying to talk to somebody. "I'm kind of flustered tonight, that's all."

Hinata finally made a noise that wasn't a whimper; it sounded like a giggle. It was short; it only lasted for two little huffs, but it was something. "It's okay...I'm just glad you came, Sasuke," she said with gratitude.

Sasuke's eyes widened a little bit at that. Why would his presence make her glad? He could theorize in his head all day and night about what she meant, but it wasn't going to get him anyplace. He had already admitted that he was out of it, so what was one more oblivious question added to the pile? "Why? Why would you be glad that I came?" he pondered, sounding a bit suspicious of her motives.

"I'm glad because Naruto was really looking forward to seeing you at the wedding." There was silence, because Hinata stopped after that and Sasuke couldn't figure out what to say. The stillness hung palpably in the sticky, grassy-smelling night. Her unassailable sadness suddenly made sense to Sasuke—the two outliers weren't miserable together by coincidence. In fact, they both felt the _exact_ same way.

"Do you love him?" Sasuke poked her with his inquiry; he thought he knew the answer already, but he wanted to let _her_ be the one to admit it. After all, his interaction with her thus far had been pretty off-base, so to avoid another blatantly wrong declaration he worded it as a question. A third strike would put him out.

Hinata nodded her head, reaching her hand up to tuck some stray hair behind her ear. "Yes, I do love him. He has always given me strength, so I'll _always_ love him for that." She paused, taking a deep breath and saying the last with a hesitant sigh: "And I'm glad that he's happy."

"But you're _sad_ , too," Sasuke hummed. He didn't need to guess, that time—it was plain to see. He knew the thoughts going through her head all too intimately well; they matched up with the ones in his _own_ brain. "You're sad because he's so happy with somebody _else_."

She shook her head side to side and tried to deny the correct observation—it was her turn to lie. "That's not it. I just..." she tried to come up with an explanation, but she could only come up with a tired cliché. "I always cry at weddings," she murmured. There a faux-smile on her face when she turned to look at Sasuke. He didn't buy what she said for a second, and he could see in her eyes that she _knew_ that he didn't buy it. She changed her tone a bit when she felt her flimsy ruse give way, letting the quiver of sorrow seep into her meek little whisper. "Everybody's so happy for them, but...I _can't_ pretend that I'm happy with how things turned out. For a while, I tried...but I failed. I didn't want to make anybody feel sorry for me." She gave Sasuke a pointed stare, almost a pleading one. "So I came out here to be alone."

Sasuke took that last part to be a subtle suggestion that he should leave. "I get it; sorry to bother you, then," he said with a dull tone. He wasn't saddened by her insistence to have some solitude—he usually preferred to be alone, too, so it was an understandable reaction. He would just have to carve out his own sulking corner in another part of the small park. He hoped idly that he wouldn't come across the Mizukage along the way; the trifecta of moping might have just been too much for the village to handle.

Just as he was resigned to walking away, he heard Hinata make a surprised squeak. She turned herself around and moved to sit on her knees, reaching a hand out toward Sasuke and waving it somewhat clumsily from side to side. "Wait, no, that's not what I meant!" she said with a mild blush spreading along her pale cheeks. Sasuke stopped to look at her, one of his eyebrows raised in confusion. Hinata explained herself: "I _did_ come out here to be alone...but now I'd rather not be."

"You sure about that?" Sasuke asked, taking note of how confusing the girl's behavior was; Hinata nodded her head and got quiet again. Good, then—Sasuke was glad to see that he wasn't the only person who was having trouble speaking his mind that night. "I'm not in any hurry to get back, but I don't want to bother you, either...Hinata." He said her name with a soothing inflection, liking the sound of it as it left his tongue. He could get used to saying it.

Hinata's face was still blushed, but she shook her head quickly and ran both hands across her cheeks to try to disperse the rising color. "You aren't bothering me," she whispered, attempting to regain some semblance of dignity. She hadn't expected anybody other than her own clan to come looking for her, so she was still embarrassed about being caught crying. "I just expected that it somebody came, it'd be someone _else_ , is all."

"Who?" Sasuke had to ask, turning back to face her and moving to sit in the grass across from where she was resting on folded knees. She was still in the shadows, but Sasuke was bathed in the light of the full moon.

"My bodyguard, Ko...or maybe my sister, Hanabi. My father, too. They worry about me when I'm out of their sight." Hinata ran her thumb along the base of her eye, wiping up a lingering dab of moisture. She rubbed her forefinger against it, trying to dry her touch but finding the humidity to be oppressive. "Since it's only you, though, I don't mind being found..."

Sasuke didn't know what to make of it. Was she specifically fine with _him_ , or would anybody other than her family have been enough? The night was emotionally overwhelming; he would think about it more in the morning to come, but for the time being he simply went with it. He also found the notion of 'out of sight' to be a bit silly when it came to the Hyuuga clan and their famed vision radius. "I'll hang around, but I'll have to go back to the party eventually. I haven't even spoken to Naruto or Sakura. I still need to get my head on straight before I try to face them, though."

Hinata gave a bob of her head, clearly getting what he was saying. She had her hands rested peacefully in her lap, then. Her eyes were still reddened around the edges, but at least her lips were turned into something flat and neutral rather than a perpetual frown. "It's okay to take your time, Sasuke. They're not going anywhere until tomorrow."

"Tomorrow? Where are they going tomorrow?" Sasuke felt pretty clueless for having asked, especially once the obvious answer came.

"They're visiting the Land of Waves for two weeks. It's for their honeymoon. Naruto says that's where they had their first real mission as ninjas. He wants their first 'mission as a married couple' to be in the same place..." Hinata twiddled her pointer fingers together as if she were guiltily sharing a coveted secret.

Sasuke couldn't help but twitch his eyebrow. To him, the notion sounded corny and unnecessary, but maybe that was why he had never been able to connect with Sakura like he intended—maybe she was Naruto's type all along, and the team didn't notice right away. "The Land of Waves," Sasuke mused, looking toward the sky and recollecting. "I was there, too...I almost died trying to save that loser's life." Of course, 'loser' was said with a brotherly affection. He had long ago abandoned his grudge and petty rivalry with Naruto, the current situation notwithstanding. Even his bitterness over the marriage would pass; somehow the anger was _already_ beginning to feel softer in his heart, but he couldn't figure out why.

"You know, Naruto talked about you all the time while you were gone," Hinata said as a complement to what her conversational companion had mentioned. "He said you'd be back in the village in no time, and that you were a great person inside...I think he was one of the only people in Konoha who actually believed in you." The young woman of noble birth started to pluck individual blades of grass out of the moist soil in front of her knees. She seemed a bit timid after saying what she did. "But I believed in you, too...because Naruto was the one who said I should."

The depths of Hinata's love and respect for Naruto were being plumbed, and Sasuke was tempted to try and change the subject. He couldn't justly do that, though; not at the risk of stealing the smile off of her face. If she _had_ to fantasize about how things used to be in order to stay afloat, then he was going to let it happen. He followed the tracks his thoughts were placed upon: "I was lost for a long time in the cold and dark. I was positive that nothing could convince me to see the world as anything other than _diseased_. For years Naruto kept on trying to persuade me, but I was thick-headed and vengeful. I refused to see the bright light in front of my own face. As an Uchiha, I'm very proud of my eyes...but it took Naruto's unnatural optimism and persistence to finally allow me to see the reality of life."

"The reality of life?" Hinata echoed, probably not expecting such a thought out of the notorious Uchiha's lips. Deep down, she was scared of him—Sasuke could see her shoulders and fingertips trembling almost imperceptibly, even though she didn't realize for herself that she was doing it.

"The reality of life is that it's a _beautiful_ thing, and even its smallest pleasures should be cherished, not wasted." Sasuke lifted his only arm, clenching his fingers into a fist and then turning his palm open as he stood up from his seated position. The way his fingers were spread made it seem like he was inviting Hinata to take hold, but she didn't accept the unspoken offer. "So let's not waste a good wedding, huh? This is a once-in-a-lifetime event for two of my closest friends. Maybe it's time for _both of us_ to make our grand re-entrance. What do you say?"

Hinata shook her head, bringing her hands together at her chest and laying them over her heart in a crossed pattern; her fingers were interlocked. "I can't, yet..." she murmured with reluctant refusal. She _looked_ like she wanted to come along based on the way her gaze was focused on Sasuke's hand, but she was firmly rooted to the moist grass. "You should go ahead."

A shake of his head was Sasuke's first reply, then he closed his eyes to ponder and make a comment. "That's not a good answer; I'm not going to leave you here just so you can start crying again."

Hinata rediscovered the heated blush she thought to have tucked away beneath her flesh. To hide it, she anxiously looked down to the patch of dirt in front of her. The muddy spot was left behind in place of the grass she had nervously pulled out. Finding her courage in the bare earth, she furrowed her brow and got a bit defensive. "I _won't_ start crying again..."

"If you're finished crying, then you're ready to come back with me." Sasuke was surprisingly stern. He didn't extend his hand that time. He expected that she would have refused to take it even if he had offered. "Look, I know what it's like to want to isolate yourself from something that hurts you, but trust me...the pain only gets worse and worse until you confront it."

"Did you learn that while you were with Orochimaru?" Hinata asked, her innocent curiosity sounding unintentionally harsh to Sasuke's ears, even despite the meekness of her speech. The name itself was a punch to the eardrum when it came from one of his old classmates.

Sasuke flinched, his hand falling limply down to his side and one of his feet taking a half-step backward. He recovered gracefully from his reeling, humming his understanding. "No...actually, I learned it from Naruto. He forced me to face myself, my _true_ self, time and time again. I did everything I could to look in another direction, to shut my eyes to the light, but eventually he pried my lids open and didn't let go until I saw the sun. In all those years, all those places, my deepest fear was of looking Naruto in the eyes. Above all else, I just wanted him gone...dead...empty inside, like me. I didn't want to admit to being _weaker_ than he was...ever since I was a kid, I was terrified of being called _second best_." He paused for several moments. He was expecting some kind of reply from Hinata, but received nothing but silence. He exhaled in a flurry of self-reflection. _Why am I telling her this?_ he thought. He hadn't spoken to anybody except for Naruto about the way he struggled inside, but when he was placed in front of those sweetly pale, tear-sparkled eyes, he was strangely compelled to spew his inner secrets like a drunk.

Hinata smiled briefly. It was the faintest tug of her outer lips, barely enough to be called a smile at all before the strings were cut and her mouth sagged back into melancholy. The long minute of silence was cut by the chiming bell of her spoken thoughts: "I don't think there's such a thing as being second best, Sasuke...I think that's because we've all got somebody out there who loves us. And when you're loved, you're second to none. As long as somebody loves you, you're the best in _their_ eyes, don't you agree?"

Sasuke scoffed. His naturally-combative self was unsatisfied with the 'everybody is special' routine coming out of Hinata's mouth, but he also had to admit that a small part of him was comforted by the idea. What if somebody far out there really did think of him as the very best? "Maybe...but the person who loves us like that isn't always the person we expect it to be, is it?"

"I guess not," Hinata cryptically whispered. She opened her mouth to say something more, but frowned with comprehension and gave a quiet sigh. She followed the sound up with a quick explanation. "I'm sorry, Sasuke, but my family is coming to get me." Upon closer inspection, Sasuke realized that her Byakugan had been turned on at some point during their talk.

He knew. Long before she had said anything, he had detected someone approaching. All of his senses were keenly tuned; over a minute prior, his ears had picked up footsteps that seemed to belong to somebody who probably thought they were sneaky—the pattern of approach led Sasuke to believe that the hushed footfalls weren't just coming to _get_ Hinata, either. Whoever it was, it seemed like he or she was coming to _eavesdrop_.

"Well, like you said...they worry about you, Hinata." Sasuke reached into a pouch slung over his shoulder and produced a small white cloth—he hadn't bothered to dress fancily for the wedding, still adorned in rugged travel trappings. Clutching the clean rag between his fingers, he reached up to Hinata's face and gently glided the silky fabric down the edge of her cheek to dab up a remnant of streaked tears. "If you want to hide your tears, feel free...but maybe your family can help you dry them, next time."

Hinata was frozen when she felt the delicate touch of the cloth slip over her skin, and she shivered when it was gone. The muggy, sweaty air of the night somehow felt bitterly cold by comparison. In that moment of uncertainty, she was stuck looking at Sasuke while her chest rose and fell with slow, measured breaths. She held onto the silent stare with white knuckles until Ko emerged from a nearby bush with a rustle. He was out of breath and had a broken twig sticking out of his hair. "Lady Hinata!" he exclaimed with his Byakugan active. He must have been urgently ordered to find her. "Your father has requested your presence for the group photo!"

Hinata looked like a raincloud had formed over her scalp. Her neck dipped forward and her face hid behind feather-light locks of blue-black hair. She hadn't wanted to be found _quite_ yet. "Alright...Please inform him that I'll be along shortly, Ko."

"Yes, of course—" Ko cut himself off and didn't step away, though he had initially planned on following her request—midway through his response, he realized with a look of dread just who his charge had been speaking with. Sasuke Uchiha, the reviled traitor himself—yes, he had indeed been pardoned of his crimes, and there were numerous high-level figures in Konoha and elsewhere who were willing to vouch for him, but there was still a profound sense of unease that accompanied the presence of the young demigod; he was the very last of his kind. Sasuke's eyes were black and white that night, but Ko knew about the dangerous power lurking deep within the abyss. With a quiet gulp, the well-dressed guardian tried to keep his attention on the one he came for. He didn't want to offend the notoriously vengeful Uchiha, but he _had_ to do his duty to 'save' Hinata from him. "Actually, Lady Hinata...maybe you should just come right away..."

Ko reached his hand out to Hinata. She took hold of it because she trusted him, although she did so with reluctance. With a confused, somewhat-worried glance toward Sasuke, Hinata felt herself being guided away abruptly. The Uchiha survivor was unbothered, having gotten quite used to the very same look of contempt that Ko shot his way. Tilting his head down and closing his eyes, Sasuke took a step backward. He was retreating slightly from the conjoined pair; he resigned to the decision for the sake of keeping the situation controlled. Though he was annoyed by the interruption, Sasuke couldn't resent any strangers who distrusted him—truthfully, he found it difficult to trust _himself_ after he nearly assaulted Naruto at the nearby wedding.

"I'll see you back at the party, Sasuke!" Hinata called out with a sense of hope in her voice as she was carted off by her bodyguard. She wasn't _yanked_ , but she was certainly coaxed to go a bit more quickly than she might have liked. She was looking his way until she was pulled out of sight.

"Yeah...see you..." Sasuke finally hummed into the empty night a few lingering moments after Hinata had already been taken out of his vision. He didn't know it yet, but there was something unexpected on his face after that.

* * *

"Say cheese!" the cameraman instructed to the massive gathering of people. Naruto and Sakura were smashed in the middle of them all, with the elegant wedding gown now practically smothered in cake and decorated with specks of clumsily spilled wine. Sakura didn't seem to care, though—it was easily the happiest day of her life, and the huge smile on her face was more than enough to make her joy immortal in the coming picture. Just before the shutter was clicked, a voice penetrated the merriment and unknowingly willed everything to fall still and silent:

"Wait a minute," it said, and all eyes turned to the far left entryway built into the fence. "I'd like to be a part of this."

Not everybody was happy to see him, but Naruto and Sakura both put on cheerful, full-toothed grins and called his name in unison: "Sasuke!"

Once the bride and groom were shown to be so ready and eager to welcome him, the tension was immediately lifted and the cameraman looked at his ticking watch, tapping his foot. Naruto waved his arm invitingly, "Come on, Sasuke—stand next to me for the picture!" No judgement, no reluctance—Naruto was as blindly accepting as always. It was almost as if he hadn't even _known_ of the misery his friend had been experiencing since receiving the invitation. But how _could_ he have known? Sasuke deliberately kept his feelings hidden under a veil.

Sasuke took Naruto's guidance and walked shamelessly into frame wearing his tattered gray-black cloak; he also wore a band around his head that kept the wild-grown hair out of his eyes, though it only barely accomplished that. He took a place at Naruto's right, while Sakura was at Naruto's left. The wedded couple each had one arm around their partner and squeezed close together. Sakura was shorter than her two male, same-aged teammates, but she dominated the photo with the presence of her white smile and her look of pure delight. She looked like she was in the middle of a dream.

From all around him, Sasuke could hear people questioning his presence. The issue wasn't that they were wondering why he was there, or that they were expecting him to leave. The climate was more along the lines of: 'is that really Sasuke Uchiha...? He looks so _different_ now...'

After the surprise interruption and subsequent resettling of the crowd, the subjects were back in their proper places. The Five Kage were lined up in the back-middle of the photographer's multi-level platform, with Kakashi in the center behind the trio of Team 7. Most of the other guests were scattered without rhyme or reason, having opted to join up with whoever they had been talking to when the time of the photo arrived. The gathered Hyuuga guests were in the front right, Hinata on the far side of them. She was barely in the photo at all, but her gown was finally allowed to sparkle in the light of the camera's flash. She had a soft smile under her nose and her tears were fully dry. She must have been feeling quite a bit better than before.

When the flash from the camera covered the plethora of people who had shown up in support of Naruto and Sakura, the moment was turned into a lasting memory. The photographer was old-fashioned; higher-speed, quick-developing cameras certainly existed, but the man was an elder approaching retirement and had been using the same equipment for decades. It was a rickety old box that might as well have fallen apart once the photo was taken. "That was good!" the man announced. "I'll have it ready for copies by tomorrow morning! Guaranteed!" He was already packing up his camera, having waited a few minutes longer than the time he was scheduled for.

"Hey, thanks mister!" Naruto called out, offering a farewell salute before turning over to kiss Sakura on the lips in celebration of a good picture. "It's like you said, Kakashi-sensei," he ecstatically announced over his shoulder to the current Hokage. "Things are just liked they used to be..." Again, several eyes turned to Sasuke. He was still standing there—perplexingly, he hadn't wandered off the moment the flash subsided. He had even watched the most recent one of over a dozen kisses shared by the newlyweds with that strange _thing_ still on his face; it was the thing that made it so difficult for his past village-mates to believe that it was actually him.

Sasuke Uchiha was wearing a grin that was almost childlike, teeth showing and all. He even managed to let loose a small laugh at the remark about things being the way they used to be. Sasuke shook his head, loose bangs swaying out from behind his plain black headband. "Not _quite_ how they used to be..." he commented, looking down to Sakura and Naruto's fingers. Golden loops were worn proudly, new and sparkling. There was no doubt in Sasuke's mind that over nine tenths of Naruto's and Sakura's savings _both_ went to the brilliant bands. "Congratulations, you two."

Sakura had been quiet; she was smiling, but seemed bothered by something in the back of her mind since the moment of Sasuke's easy laugh. The pressure was a little nagging feeling, not enough to take the smile off of her face or the sway out of her stance, but enough to be distracting. Sasuke noticed that she had a crease in her brow that hadn't been there during the photo—the party was fanning back out, dozens of shinobi and civilians alike trying to get some breathing room again.

"I'm gonna get some more ramen," Naruto said through a cheesy smile after giving Sasuke an appreciative pat on the shoulder.

As her new husband wandered off to a previously-unvisited table in search of full ramen cups, Sakura stepped up to Sasuke with her lips clamped together and her eyes narrowed. "Are you alright, Sasuke...?" she pointedly whispered, concern present on the corners of her mouth. "You're acting a bit _different_ from how I thought you might."

Sasuke didn't laugh again, though there was an odd flutter in his stomach that would have allowed him to do it if he so chose. His eyes went to scanning the guests, but he didn't see who he was looking for. Gone already? He shook his head and brought his hand up to clear his face of beaded sweat. The heat hadn't gotten any kinder to him over the past hour or two. "I feel conflicted. Tonight may not be the best time to talk about it..."

"Then when?" Sakura almost demanded an answer on the spot, her hand reaching out to touch Sasuke's forearm and ensure she had his attention. "You're right; I know it's not the best time, but I do want to know what you think of...all of _this_." She looked around at the remnants of her ebullient wedding. Streamers and confetti were littering the grassy plaza. Numerous guests had already gone, but the majority were still lingering about. The photo was evidently the climax of the evening, and the festivities were dwindling.

Sasuke didn't know what answer to give to her; his smile had faded gradually and he looked more like his usual self, but his eyes were still softened when he looked at her. "Soon. What time tomorrow are the two of you leaving for the Land of Waves?"

"Around noon, probably...why?" Sakura pursed her lips. Sasuke still had a way of spreading goosebumps over her arms, but the sensation wasn't exactly the same as it used to be. "Do you want to come over a few hours before we go so all three of us can talk?"

"If it's a bad time, I can wait until you've come back, but I'd prefer to talk this out sooner, rather than later. Needless to say, this isn't what I expected to find when I came back..." He gestured to her dress and ran his eyes up and down its luxurious layout. Regardless of how beautiful and uplifting Sakura was to behold, and with as strange as his elevated mood had felt, Sasuke still harbored a bad feeling in his gut. The dress and what it meant were the keystones that held his bitterness together, but he couldn't figure out what was pushing against the bitterness. Whatever it was, it felt sweet in his chest.

Sakura nodded with agreement. "We'll talk tomorrow, then." She paused, but spoke up before she could let herself get carried away. "So, you've been on the road for a long, long time, haven't you?" Sakura took her hand away from his arm, and that was that. She took a polite step back and gave him a photogenic smile. "Go get some sleep in the village someplace. Remind yourself what it's like to be _home_ for a change. I _worry_ about you when you're out there."

Sasuke smirked. He actually looked pretty arrogant. "I'm the _last_ person you need to worry about," he answered smugly. His old overconfidence was shining through, but it was so much more justified in the wake of his long-coming genetic inheritance during the war. As far as any living shinobi knew, Sasuke and Naruto jointly shared the distinction of being the most powerful beings to exist in their dimension.

The bride shook her head and brushed a braid of pink hair away from her eye. "I don't mean like _that_ ; Sasuke. I know you can protect yourself better than anybody, but...you need to remember that you have friends here. You don't deserve to have to wander around by yourself for the rest of your _life_." Sakura was trying not to look sad in front of the remaining attendees, but she couldn't fight the frown. "Maybe you've done _enough_ to repent for your sins. Maybe you belong _here_ again. Here with _us,_ the people of your birth village. _This_ is where you belong."

Sasuke could have probably gone back and forth with Sakura for hours, but he was so proud of himself for having managed to get so far without making a scene that he tucked away his response; he wanted to keep the spirits high, and the discussion Sakura was starting had a lot of chances to turn dark. The Uchiha opted to change the subject back to something that the pink-haired girl, who was now named Uzumaki, had mentioned a moment before: "I think you're right, Sakura...I _do_ need some sleep. I promise that we'll talk tomorrow." He reached his hand out to poke two fingers against Sakura's forehead, a gesture of affection. "I'll see you later..." Sasuke said to her, and she blushed a tiny bit while recalling how that peculiar touch had felt the previous time. The memory kept her from protesting long enough for Sasuke to turn around and gain some distance. Naruto was watching without objection from a far off table; he was scarfing down half-cooled ramen at a rate of several inches of pasta at a time.

After aiming a goodbye wave to Naruto from across the way, Sasuke made his exit from the reception. He eagerly left it all behind, but the events of that night had been even _more_ real than he expected. He had accomplished what he set out to do—he had proven to himself that Sakura was no longer an 'option' for him. There were a lot of thoughts running through his head as he departed; they ranged from his frighteningly sudden urge to kill Naruto, to the fact that he was so suddenly able to face Sakura without a good reason for the change of heart, and all the way to how carefree Naruto still seemed as long as he had ramen in front of him.

Sasuke had somehow stood beside Sakura without even showing a frustrated twitch of his lip. As he walked the silent streets and relived the evening in his head, he couldn't think of anything _logical_ that might have given him the emotional fortitude to face his missed chance at love. He couldn't deny that there was, for whatever reason, a drop of hope in every thought he formed. He knew that the wedding was a true thing, but he also felt like the _world_ wasn't over. The sun _was_ going to rise again, and he was going to face its colorful emergence with both eyes wide open.

As Sasuke reached into a sack tied to his belt, he found that he was short on hotel funds. He opted to sleep outside that night, something he often did while he was on the road. The stars were twinkling through the moist air and he could see the huge circle of the moon—the massive, cratered white disc was once the catalyst for all the world's most terribly perfect dreams, but when Sasuke looked at it on the night of his friends' wedding, it seemed more soothing than it used to. There was peace, not war, reflected down upon the world now. Sasuke found a place along the ridge that overlooked the village, his position situated above and behind the enormous stone face of the Sixth Hokage, Kakashi Hatake. He took the bag down from his shoulder and set it on the slick grass, laying his head upon the firm contents and breathing out a tense sigh. He was still angry and still remorseful; the feelings hadn't gone away, but they had been helpfully pushed aside.

Hoping that tomorrow would bring clarity to his groggy thoughts, Sasuke tucked his hand behind his head and turned onto his side. Sleep came quickly, and the night treated him well. The only dream he had before the sun came up was a brief one: it was the silent, serene image of a soft violet flower being blown lazily from side to side by a calm summer wind.

* * *

 **I hope you all liked it! Another update will be coming soon.**


	5. Solace

**Enjoy!**

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Sasuke awoke the next morning to the sound of banging hammers; despite the rude uprising, he felt as if he had been comfortably asleep for days. His entire self felt luxuriously well-rested, and for a moment he was disoriented by the wind blowing across his face and the warmth of direct sun against his cheeks; being as relaxed as he was, he thought for sure that he must have stumbled into a _bed_ the night before. He yawned openly and stretched himself out wide, writhing at the waist and legs to get the blood and oxygen flowing through each individual muscle. He tilted his head to crack the joints of his neck and rolled his shoulders to limber them up. As part of his waking ritual, he flexed both hands—one real, one imaginary—and found his nerves to be in working order. The first item on his agenda was to pick out the source of the banging. It was coming from a few dozen paces away, and he realized with wide eyes that there were scores of metallic bracings and pieces of advanced construction equipment laid out along the mountain ridge.

Sasuke rubbed the sleep out of his eyes from left to right, flicking away the remainder and sitting himself up all the way. He shook his head and sought to give his hair volume with a few precision strokes of his fingers. Sleeping on a stiff knapsack didn't bother his hardy neck, but his _hair_ was matted down stubbornly. He cheated a bit by running a brief current of low-voltage electricity through his fingertips to raise and separate the individual strands, then flattened them down with a pat. He didn't have a mirror, but it _probably_ looked good enough.

The nearby construction had begun at the crack of dawn, and the purple-orange hues of the rising sun could still be seen lingering along the scattered clouds as the dancing colors gave way to a brighter day. Sasuke took in a deep breath of fresh air, though it was just lightly seasoned with the flavor of sawdust and sun-baked steel. It was a scent that reminded him of progress; things were becoming fresh and new again. Destruction was no longer the order of the day—the modern people of the ninja world were rushing to _build_ , not to break, and the thought was encouraging.

Standing fully, Sasuke judged the low position of the sun and decided that it was as good a time as any to have his talk with Sakura and Naruto. He reached into his pack and fished for the crumpled wedding invitation, spared from its fate as trash by Sasuke's sudden change of heart near the tail end of the night before. When he first arrived in the village, he had intended to disappear again soon afterward. Instead, he found himself inexorably glued into the foundations of Konoha for a while longer.

He resolved not to leave without saying what he had originally come to say. Although Kakashi had deftly stopped him from voicing his wedding objections, the young Uchiha still had the thoughts lingering on the tip of his tongue. The fulfilling night's sleep had softened the edge of his intended _wording_ of said objections, but the ideas within were still the same.

The delivered invitation was clutched in Sasuke's hand; along with the details of the wedding, it had also included Naruto and Sakura's new address, just in case Sasuke didn't show up to the event and instead decided to visit another time. Finding the scribbled side-note, he read the letters and numbers off in his head and quickly put them to memory. Had he seen the street name ten years prior, he would have been able to navigate to the exact location within a matter of minutes. Back then, he knew every inch of the village's layout...but in the early morning light high above the sunken village, he could see the true extent of the damage done during his childhood absence. He had seen it before, at a glance, but even then he was refusing to fully accept what had happened. Was that place really his home anymore? Sakura told him it _was_ , but to Sasuke, Konoha looked and felt entirely different.

The village was nestled into a relatively recent crater, but to an inexperienced eye it probably seemed perfectly normal. The village had filled out the new space without looking awkward; a few ruins remained, particularly the flattened Uzumaki shrine along the outskirts, and a large portion of the long-vacant Uchiha district. It seemed as if Sasuke's family grounds were seen as cursed or tainted; rather than rid the village of the horrible memories, the civil engineers had planned an entirely new expansion above the Hokage Monument; they had opted to leave the dilapidated buildings below to crumble away further into their holes.

Sasuke took another look at the busy folks who hammered away behind him—the nascent buildings looked like they would continue to rise higher for quite some time. They were still in early construction, but parts had been finished already and were gleaming proudly with skeletons of strong glass and precisely-shaped metal. He hummed to himself, giving a nod to the construction workers who hadn't even taken notice of him. It was a silent tribute to the things they did to make the world healthier and happier. The war had cost a lot of lives and leveled numerous villages, large and small—seeing the scattered pieces picked up and made stronger was a reminder of how resilient the human mind could be. Coincidentally, Sasuke's mind was human, too—now, if only he could find the pieces and put them back together. He hoped that his talk with Sakura might help with that, and so he took a careless leap from the peak of the monument and started in the direction he _thought_ the apartment would be in.

His thoughts proved wrong, and he found himself wandering the streets aimlessly for half an hour. He knew that he could have asked for directions, but he got lost in the nostalgia—from high above, yes, Konoha looked quite different. At street-level, though? The walkways and open-faced shops were still teeming with life and energy, the faces of the people as vibrant and inviting as ever. Sasuke recognized a few shop owners spread around who didn't seem to recognize him in turn, though he was keeping himself discreet. He recalled a typical day many years ago, so far back that his brother was still a part of the village: he had often walked through the door of a shop and purchased a piece of candy. The specific building had been leveled and re-raised, so it wasn't the same wood—plus the location was not the same...but the building he found himself looking at in the present day _was_ the same shop in spirit, as he could see the same people manning its counters and stocking its modest shelves as he recalled so long ago.

A detour wouldn't hurt; noon was still several hours away and he didn't plan to take very long in the store. He walked through the door to the sound of a chime, and he kept his eyes turned away from the counter. He didn't want to be recognized, necessarily. He only wanted to connect with something that reminded him of the happy days of his childhood. Running his keen sight over the numerous sections of the rustic candy barrels, he found the precise flavor he was looking for. The small globes of hard sugar were colored red and tasted like false cherries. He plucked a single piece out of the barrel by the clear plastic of its bow-shaped wrapper, and he carried it to the counter to set it down with a stone-serious face.

The elderly man behind the register didn't look any different; ten years had been kind to him, as far kindness could go for face that was already wrinkled up in the past. Sasuke placed a small coin onto the counter beside the candy, hoping for the run-in to pass by quickly. The sweet was a guilty pleasure, but one he had decided he _needed_ to have if he was going to discover the courage to face his greatest surviving source of pain. The transaction was underway, and the man processing the small payment gave Sasuke a quick glance and looked away—then he looked back up and scrunched his eyes, readjusting the thick glasses along his nose.

Recognition set in. "Sasuke Uchiha, as I live and breathe...it's been a long time, lad! Welcome home!" The old man reached an aging hand over the flat divider, open-palmed and expecting a shake. He offered the wrong hand, but Sasuke smiled and folded open his cloak to show that his left arm was quite absent, offering the right instead. "Got yourself a nice _war scar_ , eh?" The man chuckled as he offered his other hand to meet Sasuke's right and began a feeble shake. "Y'know, it's not so bad what you got. I heard rumors ya went traitor, got killed; some folk even say you're the one who pancaked the village a little over three years back...why'd you call yourself 'Pain'?"

Sasuke was both disturbed and amused by how the rumors had gotten corrupted along the grapevine, though maybe the simpler answer to the confusion was that the proprietor's senility was catching up to him. Sasuke put on a forced smile, his cheeks wrinkled unnaturally at the sides of his lips. He had a choice to make—have a friendly chat and reminisce, or make a rapid escape. He hadn't meant to be recognized, so he hoped that the encounter would be forgotten swiftly: "Sorry...you must be thinking of somebody else..." he said, ending the delicate handshake and fetching his candy from the counter. "Keep the change," he offered as he turned to leave. The aging owner was confused, scratching his head as Sasuke left through the door he came in by. The village's people were definitely the same ones as they used to be—Sasuke wasn't sure, yet, if that was a good thing or a bad thing. He had come to terms with his own mistakes and the personal consequences, but he wasn't sure if he was ready to face the people he had betrayed.

Sasuke felt guilty about brushing the codger off, but once he was around the corner from the shop, he cleared his conscience. He deftly unwrapped his purchased sweet with two fingers and popped it into his mouth. He paused in his tracks, taking a very precious moment to savor the way his tongue watered around the simple delight. _Even the smallest pleasures of life should be cherished,_ he thought to himself just as he had said the night before. A long time ago he had convinced himself that he had outgrown the joy of candy, but maybe he had rushed the decision a little bit. Closing his eyes and swallowing the first wave of flavored saliva, he pushed the ball to the side of his left cheek and continued to walk. A dozen people passed him by before he sucked up his pride and called out to one of them for directions.

"Excuse me, miss," he said with a slight swell in his voice, the candy just barely changing his speech pattern. "Could you tell me how to reach this address?" He showed the young woman the paper, and she squinted to read the crinkled handwriting. After a moment, she nodded her head and gave a smile, pointing Sasuke kindly in the right direction. He thanked her and gave a polite bow of his head, then quickly scurried away to make up for the short time he lost in the shop. Simple things, simple pleasures, kind people—the village's atmosphere was warmer than ever, yet he still felt the heavy urge to leave it behind for good.

Minutes later, after leaping from a few rooftops and clearing half of the village with a single hop, Sasuke found himself at the ground level of Naruto and Sakura's apartment building—they shared the structure with what must have been three dozen other tenants, each home tucked behind a single door with no window leading in. He double-checked the number on the invitation and found the corresponding front door. He stopped flat just as he was about to knock on the plain brown wood. His knuckles hovered motionlessly for a solid minute, and he bit hard into his candy to crunch it up and swallow it down, though it was swallowed long before he was _ready_ to part with it. He rushed through it because he was self-conscious; Sakura had already accused him of acting strange the night before. He didn't want to give her even more cause for alarm; showing up at their door with candy in his mouth might have convinced the newlyweds that Sasuke had actually sent a clone instead of showing up himself.

With all traces of the confection swept clean of his mouth, he took a deep inhale and knocked politely against the door once. He then knocked a second time, and by the third thump the door was opened and Naruto was standing in the frame with a toothbrush hanging groggily out of his mouth. "Oh...Sasuke, you're too early," the blonde mumbled, rubbing his head and yawning. His whiskers contorted with his cheeks when his mouth split open wide. After Naruto shook himself further awake and wiped his face, he managed a do-over with extra enthusiasm and brighter eyes: "I mean...Sasuke! It's great to see you, come on in!" He stepped back into the apartment with the door held open, then cupped his bandaged hand beside his mouth to call down the hallway: "Hey, Sakura, he's here!"

As Sasuke stepped into the cramped abode, he gave Naruto a smirking nod. "Good seeing you too, loser," he teased, reaching his hand up to ruffle Naruto's scraggly, shortened hair. It felt good to be standing there; it was _so_ good that he almost forgot the sobering reason why he came. He wanted to just _be there,_ to simply exist as as Naruto's brother and let the rest of his worries slide out the door.

Naruto scowled at the remark Sasuke made, but there was brightness in his expression that made it clear that all was instantly forgiven. Sakura poked her head in from a side door, looking down the narrow hall and smiling when she saw Sasuke standing imposingly in the slender foyer. He had gotten taller and a bit wider since he left three years prior, and Sakura hadn't quite noticed it during the bustling pace of her wedding. "Sasuke...good, I'm glad you're here early. Make yourself at home, I'll be out in a second!"

Sasuke nodded to her before she disappeared again; she looked like she wasn't ready for visitors, her hair as scrambled as Naruto's. He imagined that the couple had been up all night with each other—wedding night celebrations, and all—but he pushed the invasive thoughts away and kept himself calm. He distracted himself by looking around the modest home; all he could see thus far in front of him was a hallway that led to a back wall and abruptly stopped. There was one small, open room to the immediate right of the door that must have been the living space, and three doors were lining the narrow passageway that he figured must have led into a bedroom, bath, and closet. The whole place was lit by a pair of bulbs that were almost depressingly dim. It was cramped, too...or was it cozy? There was such a curiously narrow distinction between the two.

Sasuke did as Sakura suggested and made himself at home, discarding his travel cloak and unhooking the sword from his belt. He hung his shawl over a coat hook that was nailed into the bare white wall, and then laid his weapon on the floor. His satchel came next, heaped down over the sheathe as if to intentionally cover it up. Finally, his sandals were kicked off and placed neatly beside the other two pairs already there.

Naruto looked at Sasuke like he was forgetting something, but then a lightbulb went off in the jinchuriki's head: "Oh! Hey, Sasuke, do you want to sit down? I'm not very good at this 'hosting' thing, but Sakura says I should _always_ offer someone a seat and some tea when they come in." Naruto gestured toward the living space; it wasn't exactly lavish, but there were a few chairs plus a two-cushioned couch arranged together in a semi-circle around a low table. Beyond the seating near the far wall, there was a little nook with a small oven, a sink with a leaky faucet, and a table to seat two. The floors were all hardwood, finished but scuffed.

Sasuke nodded appreciatively and silently put himself into one of the chairs closest to the door. He felt like he was in the stomach of a great monster, willingly submitting himself to the boiling acids within as the pressure ate away at him. He did what he could to keep his breathing steady, but the clues and painful understanding were all around him—the home was lived-in, not newly occupied in the slightest. Naruto and Sakura had probably been living together for at _least_ a few months before actually getting married. Sasuke caught himself wondering just how long Sakura had even waited for him to come back—when _had_ she decided to give up, at last? Could he have done something differently, then? Could he, even better, do something _now_?

Naruto sat down, too, taking up one half of the two-person sofa and laying his arm over the sloped edge. "So, Sasuke, what's on your mind?"

Sasuke looked over to the hallway; the door Sakura had poked her head through was just out of his sight around the cornered wall. He answered Naruto with as neutral a tone as he could handle: "I just want to talk to you both before you leave. I don't know if I'll be available when you return, and I'd hate to miss my chance."

Naruto gave a nod, sinking into the sofa and making another yawn. He was dressed in a plain black t-shirt and blue shorts, the toothbrush still idly bobbing between his lips like he had forgotten all about it. "You mean you're gonna leave again that fast? We were kinda hoping you'd hang around for a while..."

Naruto's dejected tone surprised Sasuke, but also didn't. As a kid, Naruto was always empathetic, always looking to make new friends and keep them around. He carried that trait well into adulthood, but it had branched out into an all-inclusive, contagious beacon. He wasn't only making friends for _himself_ , anymore. He was bringing people together from all walks of life and encouraging them to stick close to one another; the wedding was proof of that. In the past, such gatherings would have been divided neatly between village lines; group photos would have been color-coded to correspond with native villages. At Naruto and Sakura's wedding, though, there was no way to tell where the Stone ended and the Cloud began. Mist mingled with Leaf, and Sand was scattered all around the cracks.

"I know _you're_ happy in the village, Naruto, but it's not the _place_ for me anymore. I've done bad things to the people here, and they haven't forgotten." _Some people even accuse me of evils I never committed_ , he wanted to say, but he opted not to make too big of a deal over the candy shop owner's misconception about Pain.

"The hell? Not the _place_ for you...?" Naruto tightened his brow and got serious. Sasuke hated seeing that look; it meant that Naruto was about to remind him of something obvious and simple, something that should have just been common knowledge. "There's _always_ going to be a place for you here...and if somebody tells you otherwise, then you oughta tell me about it, and then I'll give 'em a piece of my mind, y'know?!" Naruto smacked his fist into his palm, but it was all for show. Sasuke knew that Naruto wasn't like he used to be—the kid was actually becoming mature, and he didn't start fights for attention anymore.

"That's nice of you to say, Naruto, but it's not just _them_...Even if it were only up to _me_ , Konoha still wouldn't feel like home." Sasuke leaned his neck over the backrest of his chair. It was rigid and uncushioned, but he had certainly sat in _worse_ places before. "It just isn't the village I want to spend my life in."

Naruto's firm visage softened, and his mouth turned diagonal with conflict. On some level, he seemed to understand what Sasuke was saying, but on every other level it sounded like a load of bull. "If you could change something about the village to make it feel more like home, what would it be?" Naruto was genuinely curious, but Sasuke couldn't give the honest answer that popped into his head: _Let me have Sakura._

Instead, he danced around the question and gave a non-answer. "I don't want to change it; it's the place you, Sakura, and Kakashi all love exactly like it is. I'm not selfish enough to ask you to make things different for my sake; I haven't earned that right."

Naruto set his elbows on his knees, crossing his wrists and leaning his shoulders forward. "I meant hypothetically...you're kinda difficult to talk with, y'know?"

Sasuke smirked, ready to shoot something snide back when Sakura came into the room looking ready for travel. Of course she looked ready; the start of her honeymoon was only a few hours away. She looked at Sasuke and Naruto with a subdued smile, glad to see them getting along, even if it was somewhat gritty. It still seemed surreal, the way they had finally stopped their feuding and come to terms with each other. "Naruto, you're not bugging our guest, are you?" She asked her husband with a wink, and he looked over at her with a hand tucked behind his head to rub his neck. She cleared her throat and looked aside. "And, uh...you might want to take the _toothbrush_ out of your mouth, dear."

Naruto crossed his eyes to look down at the blue stick poking out from between his lips. It had gotten stuck to his lower lip at some point and he had forgotten it was there. "Erm...yeah. Hey, give me a sec, wouldya?" he said to Sasuke with a finger lifted. Naruto stood up from the couch and scooted over to Sakura, wiggling the toothbrush with his tongue and nudging the base of his wife's ear with it. "Ya sure you want me to get rid of it?" he asked playfully with his mouth full, grinning at her with a gap in his teeth where the brush prevented full closure.

Sakura giggled, blushing and bringing a coy hand up to push Naruto away by the forehead. "Yes, I'm completely sure, darling," she laughed, then brought her hand from his forehead to the top of his scalp, taking hold of some of his short hair and pulling his face to hers. Rather than kiss his toothbrush-burdened mouth, she settled for a peck of her lips against his whiskered cheek. "Go finish getting ready; I want to leave the village at noon _sharp_ , not ten after!" Naruto looked as happy as could be, nodding his head and disappearing into the bedroom around the corner. His wife gave him a pat on the back, but once the door was latched, Sakura gave a sigh and moved into the seat her husband had left open across from her erstwhile lover.

"Okay, Sasuke...Naruto takes forever to get ready in the morning, so if you want to talk to me _alone_ , this is going to be the best time..." Sakura's mood had seemingly gone from a hundred to zero in a second flat; she had probably been dreading that impending conversation all night and morning. Once again, Sasuke felt guilty—his presence was seemingly welcome, but at the same time he was a definite burden to his friends, most especially Sakura. He hoped inwardly that he hadn't dampened her wedding night by arriving there. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets either way.

Whether Naruto took forever to get ready or not, Sasuke was in no mood to beat around the bush. He asked the question he would have asked at the marriage ceremony: "Do you still love me, Sakura?"

She answered without hesitation. "Yes, Sasuke...I do still love you."

He should have been surprised by her answer, but he simply wasn't. Was she _settling f_ or Naruto? He felt the bitterness again. "Then _why_?"

She sighed, running the back of her hand across her neck and reaching behind her head to squeeze her hair self-consciously. "Because I love _him_ , too...and even if I _didn't_ love him as deeply as I do, you made it pretty clear that you don't want me around anyway."

Sasuke clenched his jaw, pursed his lips, flexed his fingers and toes, did everything he could to hold in the scream that was beating down the door of his throat. He was silent on the top but tumultuous below the surface. When he felt stable enough to reply, he spoke through an inhale; it sounded airy, but at least he was suppressing down the temptation to roar. "I _did_ want you around, Sakura...I mean, I still _do_."

Despite fighting it, a single tear rolled down the side of Sakura's cheek, and she wiped it away with her sleeve while drawing a shuddering breath. "Then why didn't you take me with you? I wanted to go...I wanted to be with you more than _anything_ , but you told me _no_. You said that your sins had _nothing_ to do with me. Do you know how much that hurt? I put myself in front of you, practically begged you to take me, but you just walked away...I took that to mean that you didn't see me as an important part of your life. After three years of grief and worry, I finally had you back...and then you vanished for _another_ three years just like _that_." She snapped her fingers, forcing a smile. "So, I got the message, don't worry about that."

"Sakura, I..." Sasuke was strangling himself with his absent left hand; he could feel the phantom fingers clutching his throat and trying to shake him side to side like a maraca. It _was_ his fault, just as he feared—he had pushed her forcefully away without even knowing it. With hindsight, he could see how the refusal of her companionship would have sprouted deeply troubling roots in her heart. "I'm sorry, Sakure. I honestly didn't know that it would be so painful for you. I wanted you to stay behind with people who loved you; people who would have missed you if you weren't there." ...Wrong answer.

Sakura's face went from sad to furious like the flip of a switch, her lips curling into the look of a wild woman. "So _that's_ how you tell me that you don't love me? That you didn't _miss_ me? I _did_ want to be with someone who loved me, Sasuke...and I _thought_ that person was you! I must've been dead wrong. You left me alone for two entire _years_ before I realized that you weren't going to come back for me; I used to stand at the front gate, staring down the road hoping to catch a glimpse of the top of your head. I kept telling myself: 'don't worry, tomorrow will finally be the day. He misses you so much, Sakura! Just be patient!' I even let myself believe it was true." She stood up from the couch and stared Sasuke down, arms hanging by her waist and hands clenching into fists. "I must've looked so _pathetic_ , but you know what? Naruto was _always_ there..."

Sasuke kept up his ruse of indifference. _Don't let her see you break_. "I wasn't ready to give you the attention you deserved...and I think I was also afraid of coming back to you and not being _good enough_. Since we're being honest with each other...If I hadn't gotten your invitation, I can't say for certain that Iwould have _ever_ come back to this village again." He admitted the hidden truth with a straight face. Seeing Sakura in such a fit was worse than a knife through the heart—at least the _knife_ would have eventually put him out of his misery. Sakura's pained expression was the blade that didn't cut, but it still caused unrelenting pain. She was standing there beautifully; she was enraged and ready to knock him through the wall. He couldn't have possibly pictured a more defining moment for their relationship.

Sakura trembled for a while, but she calmed down when she realized that Sasuke didn't even flinch from her rage—even with Sakura exposed and vulnerable, Sasuke seemed so coldly detached from it all. Although he wasn't genuinely hard of heart, his face was trained to let nothing through, and he managed to hide his pain even from the one who held his heart in her hands. It was a curse that doomed him to loneliness, but he couldn't bear to let Sakura, of all people, see him cry. Sakura dug her fingernails into her palms, drawing blood with the intensity of her boiled emotions. She had been holding that rant in for years, and letting it out was satisfying even if there was still a void in her heart.

She breathed in, then out, then in and out again, sitting herself down with a creak against the flimsy sofa beneath her. "Sasuke, I've always wanted to believe in the notion of eternal love; the idea that a person can survive on the _idea_ of being cherished, and nothing else. But when I was cold, lonely, and scared of the world...Naruto was still there, and you weren't. I went through a _war_ for the first time; I saw friends and strangers die by the dozens. I witnessed a battle between _gods_...I was lost and confused, and I needed somebody who could help me _cope_ with it all...but you were gone. I tried to be strong on my own, but sometimes I just needed somebody to _be_ _there_ for me. And when I was at my lowest, Naruto never _once_ left my side. I fell deeply in love with him, and now he's my husband. I _do_ love you, Sasuke...but the two of us can never be _lovers_."

Sasuke moved to silently stand. He was turning toward the door because he had heard enough. The finality of her last statement was the end of his resolve, and he was ready to go. As he was trying to leave, he felt Sakura's hand on his stumpy shoulder. He stopped, turning to look at her. His left Sharingan had activated inadvertently, rising all the way to the concentric globes and commas of the Rinnegan. Sakura recoiled slightly from the fearsome sight, unsure of what was coming...but nothing _did_ come. There's tell that the eyes speak volumes about a person's soul, and while Sasuke's face was stoic and unfeeling, his exceptional eyes were crying with invisible tears. He was broken inside, perhaps even more so than he had been the night before. He had failed her more completely than he had ever thought possible. He deserved his loneliness.

Sakura saw through his veil at last, and her stern grip on his shoulder softened when she felt his raw regret. She pleaded with him—"Please don't go away, Sasuke...don't leave us all behind again." She rubbed his shoulder soothingly, lowering her voice to hopefully calm him down. "So _what_ if we weren't meant to be together? That doesn't mean you get to just shut me out and pretend I never _existed_. I won't watch you fall back into the darkness, and I for _damn_ _sure_ won't let you wander off again to face the whole world alone." She took her hand off of Sasuke's shoulder, folding her arms under her developed chest. "Like it or not, Sasuke, we're your _family_. Me, Naruto, and Kakashi-sensei—Team 7. We never gave up on you, so _please_ don't give up on Konoha. You've spent so _little_ time here since we were all just kids...give it another chance."

Sasuke simply looked at her. He was constantly at war within himself. A part of him wanted to believe her—he wanted to think that maybe things _could_ be different for him if he just gave the village another chance. Yet, the last time he allowed himself to cherish something, he had personally ensured that his own heart would break...it was as if his very own subconscious was working against him. When he told Sakura not to come with him three years prior, the idea made sense in his head—the journey was a burden, not a vacation; he didn't want to drag her along and force her to endure the penance. Hearing what she had to say, finally knowing how lonely she was without him...He got to thinking: _If I had said_ _ **yes**_ _, where might the two of us have been today?_

Sasuke reached his right hand up to his left shoulder, clasping Sakura's hand and gently plucking it away, turning himself entirely to face her. "What do you want me to say, Sakura? What do I have to do to make you understand that I don't have the strength to face my decade-long string of _failures_?"

Sakura gave a sad smile. "Don't think of _me_ as one of your failures, Sasuke... _I_ made a choice, and that's all it is. Things might have been different if you had come back sooner, or if you had brought me with you...but maybe they wouldn't have changed at all in the end. It could be that we'd be standing here right now having this same conversation with slightly different words no matter _what_ you decided that day. We can't know what might have been, so don't torture yourself over it..." After a long pause filled with quiet emotion, Sakura put a few curled fingertips on Sasuke's cheek gently. "Now...here's what I want, Sasuke: make a promise to me."

Sasuke was listening. Sakura delicately clapped both of her hands around his, rubbing her thumb against the back of his wrist. "I want you to promise me that you'll still be in the village when Naruto and I come back from our honeymoon. Two weeks; that won't be so bad, right? Stay here for two weeks, and _please_ make an honest effort to settle in. If I come back and you're brooding on a treetop, I'm going to think you're doing it just to spite me. Help with rebuilding, see Kakashi-sensei about doing some simple missions inside the village. Just _try_...that's all I want from you. If you still want to leave when we come back, I'll wish you the best and never mention it again."

Sasuke wanted to leave then and there, but he wasn't able to reach the door quickly enough before something else took his attention away. He had slipped his hand out of Sakura's grip and started to walk, but by the time he was picking up his travel cloak from the coat hook he felt the crinkle of sturdy paper within one of its pockets. He had forgotten about the souvenir, but when he reached his hand into the pocket to fetch the culprit, he produced the hand-drawn placard that had reserved his seat at the reception. He looked at it for a moment, rubbing the paper between his fingers and contemplating. He spoke with regret: "I don't think I can do it; two weeks is an eternity when you're staring down into the pit of hell. You can have this back, Sakura...I though it would have been nice to keep, but I've decided that I don't need the constant reminder." He moved to hand the tag to her, but she looked befuddled.

"That's not mine," she said with a curious hum. She moved up to Sasuke, taking the paper and studying it. 'Sasuke Uchiha,' it said, with a red and white fan drawn below, almost a perfect replica of the Uchiha crest that was on the back of the shirt Sasuke wore beneath his cloak. "Where did it come from?"

Sasuke furrowed his brow. "It was laying on a chair at the reception; do you mean to tell me that you weren't the one who put it there?"

Sakura blushed, feeling a bit guilty for having _not_ been the one, but she couldn't rightly lie to him about it. "No, I've never seen this, honestly...Maybe you should ask Naruto about it?" She played with the paper; it was thick, almost plastic in consistency. Somebody really wanted it to look nice. The small mystery had distracted her from the more serious conversation a moment before, but she fell back to her point without giving up. She extended the name tag back to him, and surprisingly he accepted it. Sakura still seemed worried, but at least she had gotten him to take it back. She had a "Anyway, Sasuke...please promise me that you'll be here. Promise that you'll _try_. _Please,_ Sasuke."

It was time for another decision—he could make the promise and suffer for two weeks in a village he resented for all the wrong reasons, or he could do as he had done with the old man in the candy shop and prove himself a coward. He thought about leaving without a word, simply opening the door and saying farewell to his old life forever. He had two possible answers: 'Goodbye,' or 'I promise.' His dream came to mind again at such an odd time, the purple flower swaying against the back of his thoughts. The gentle petals seemed to take the place of the angry wasp from the night before—the calming caress nudged him carefully toward his quiet answer:

"Okay...I promise."

When the words reached her ears, Sakura's frown turned into an open gasp of profound relief. Her hands came together beneath her chin as another tear fell down her cheek; this time she wasn't trying to fight it back. She hadn't even been breathing while she awaited his answer—his well-being must have been extremely important to her, though he felt undeserving of the concern. "Thank you, Sasuke...thank you so much..." She abruptly stepped in to give him a hug, unabashedly throwing both arms around him and squeezing him tight. Sasuke blinked at the display, but maybe he wasn't actually surprised...maybe he _knew_ somehow that she didn't _hate_ him despite having every reason in the world to do so. It was becoming clearer to him that she had married Naruto because she made a choice for herself; despite what it took from him on a personal, that choice didn't completely shut Sasuke out of her life. The embrace was returned by his strong limb, and he ran his hand up and down the place on her back between her shoulders.

Almost too conveniently, Naruto walked out of the bedroom at that exact time; upon seeing the embrace, he smiled wide. Whether he was too naïve to be suspicious of the intimate, tearful connection, or if he had been listening to their conversation the entire time, it was impossible to tell—all that was clear was that Naruto was respectably dressed up in a subdued orange and black outfit, a tightly-fitting shirt with high-quality fastenings running down the center and a pair of decent slacks to cover his legs. "How do I look, guys?"

Sakura and Sasuke parted the hug as friends—on shaky ground but still afloat. They each looked at Naruto with differing expressions. Sasuke was perplexed, but Sakura was impressed. "You look amazing, Naruto!" she exclaimed, rushing to his side and giving him the next hug, punctuating it with a natural kiss.

Sasuke wasn't smiling, but he wasn't frowning—he wasn't angry, but he wasn't happy. All he could say was that he had started to get _used_ to the idea of the two being married, though he hadn't started to _like_ it all that much, yet. Time would help, he convinced himself. "I don't want to keep you two distracted; besides, I need to go talk to Kakashi about something. I'll see you both when you come home...I _promise_." He managed a half-smile and a cunning wink, tucking his reserved naming placard back into his cloak as he slipped it on and rearmed himself from the floor.

"Take care of yourself, Sasuke," Sakura called to him as he opened the door. She was answered with a tentative nod, and Naruto said farewell as well. Once the Uchiha was out of earshot and the door was tightly closed, Sakura leaned up to nip Naruto's ear and whisper a question—"You heard every word we said, didn't you?"

Naruto nodded his head, slipping his arm around Sakura's hip and tugging her in close to his waist. "Sure I did; I couldn't resist listening in...he's doing a lot better than I thought he'd be, y'know?" He kissed his wife on the plush lips, closing his eyes to savor their togetherness. He was happy, and she was happy...every day had a little bit of gladness so long as they had one another, no matter the weather or bad news.

"I saw that talk going a lot differently in my head...He seems willing to try, but do you think we're going to see him when we come back? Was he just appeasing me?" She was genuinely concerned, but in Naruto's presence she constantly had to fight with herself to be in a bad mood. He made everything okay, and Sakura's hands were roaming appreciatively along his well-dressed form.

"Since he's still here, then I think he really is willing to try...if he _isn't_ ready, then there's nothing more we can do for him until he is. We can't force him. I love you, Sakura...and I'm glad your choice was me. Now Sasuke's gotta make his _own_ choice, y'know?" Naruto chuckled huskily, bringing his hand up to the base of Sakura's chin to tilt her into a confident smooch, deepening the connection and stepping forward to nudge his new wife against the plain wall. Newlyweds had a habit of accidentally falling into one another at the most inconvenient of times.

"I love you too, Naruto...and, mmm, well...I've got one of my _own_ choices in mind right about now..." Sakura murmured through the fiery kiss. She was reaching her hand suggestively toward her lover's waistband, but just when they were starting to get really comfortable with their impassioned closeness, a knock returned to the door and broke them apart. Sakura breathed with a little tick of frustration, but she put on a homemaker's smile when she went to answer the knock. Protection from interruption was _exactly_ what they needed a honeymoon for, and she couldn't wait for it to get started.

"Did you forget something, Sasuke?" she asked as she swung the door wide open, but it wasn't their guest coming back. It was a boy no older than thirteen wearing a Konoha headband. He was performing a delivery mission, one of the few things left for young ninjas to do anymore. "Oh, I'm sorry! What have you got there?" She reached her hand down, the young boy offering up a manila envelope tied shut with a string. The kid must have been shy, because he didn't say a word before waving goodbye and skipping off once the package was accepted.

"What's that?" Naruto asked, awkwardly straightening his collar in the nearest mirror.

Sakura undid the envelope and pulled out the contents. "Oh, I see; It's the preview copy for the wedding photo! I guess the photographer wasn't kidding when he said it'd be ready by morning..." She dumped all the packed-in order forms and sample kits out onto the stubby table in the center of their living space, sorting through all the information and dividing different slips into separated piles. She found herself repeatedly looking back at the large photo—in it, Sasuke was smiling like Sakura had never seen, and it made her ponder. After a few minutes went by, she noticed something else that she found a bit interesting. "Say, Naruto?"

"Yeah?" he responded, moving to take a seat beside her on the double-cushioned loveseat. "What's up, _Mrs. Uzumaki_?"

Sakura beamed at him and got a bit distracted in response to hearing her new name, be then she retraced her thought process showed him the photo, pointing her finger into the bottom right corner to indicate Hinata's barely-there presence. "Do you notice anything strange about Hinata in this picture? Sasuke, too..." She was testing her own sanity, making sure that she wasn't inventing things to see when nothing was there.

Naruto studied the two faces, his eyes squinting and his hand lifting to stroke his chin thoughtfully. They weren't even close to each other in the photo, so it took him a little while to catch on, but his stare widened and his hands punched together in a eureka moment. "Wow, that's odd, y'know? What do you think it means?"

Sakura didn't want to jump to any kind of conclusions, so she laid the picture down and smoothed out the hem of her long red shirt as she stood. "Probably nothing, it's just a little peculiar, I guess." She put the photo out of her mind for the time being, turning her attention fully onto her snazzily-garbed lover. "Well, noon's coming soon and I want to say goodbye to a few people before we leave Konoha! Are you ready to head out?" She offered her hand to Naruto, and he took it with a sparkling smile and a 'you bet' as they both left the apartment together.

Left upon the table in the dark, the photo was a permanently saved moment in time. Sasuke Uchiha and Hinata Hyuuga were both known in the village as people whose emotions were deeply reserved. In Hinata's case, shyness and uncertainty kept her from being expressive; Sasuke's case may have been a mystery to most, but those who knew him could see that his reclusive nature was indeed brought about by his fear of seeming weak. The wedding photo was the first image to show them both at the same time since the long-ago graduation ceremony at the Academy. Upon the newly-developed image, and by some astronomically rare odds, the two of them each wore the exact same smile. Though there had been gloom in their minds that night, the solace upon each smiling face was plain as day; their hearts were both twinkling with hope without their heads knowing exactly why.

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 **NOTICE! I will, from now on, be deleting any guest reviews that are _only_ _in the section to_ _troll or harass other readers_. I know people can be passionate about shipping, but I don't want my review section to be a war-zone. If you want your troll review to stick, you'll have to make an account...but I can't be held accountable if you get reported for what you say =P  
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 **Further notice for clarification's sake: _I will NOT be deleting guest reviews that are legitimate, so don't worry_. Legitimate commentary (even negative commentary as long as it is sensibly delivered) will be untouched. Please be kind to one another!**

 **I love getting and reading reviews, but it makes me a bit sad to see people attacking each other with them. If your review is ever deleted, that's why. Nothing other than intentional flaming/trolling will be removed.**

 **Now, with that ugly business out of the way...thanks for reading! The next update is coming soon.**


	6. Those Soothing Eyes

**I have read every single review that I've gotten so far! Barring an incident with a couple of troll guest reviews, it's been a great experience. While most of you seem to agree that the story is quite good (and I'm _so very_ _thrilled_ by that), there's one complaint I have gotten above all else: "I don't think it should be called Settling for Second Best." It just so happens that I agree, but at the time I couldn't think of a better name. So, by popular demand I've decided to change the title (as you've probably noticed). The original title was meant to be somewhat ironic and deceptive, but in the end it was just _wrong_ , and it did a poor job of conveying the purpose and content of the story, so I've decided to fix it. **

**I don't actually know how title changes work as far as finding the story again, so I hope you didn't have any trouble getting here if you're a returning reader.**

 **From here on out, this story will be known as "Fate Doesn't Make Mistakes" to better reflect the fact that neither Sasuke nor Hinata are second best in _anybody's_ heart. We all love them both way too much to ever call either of them second, right? With that said, enjoy the chapter:**

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We will all meet countless people in our lifetimes; most of these meetings are random, not at all meant to alter the course we follow from day to day. Sometimes, but only _sometimes_ , we will meet one special person who has the potential to change _everything_. Rarely, a picture is snapped to capture the precise moment of the heart's profound realization—and even when the heart _has_ caught on, the trick comes in convincing the stubborn __head__ of what it has discovered. To overcome one's own hesitation and doubt, it often takes a gentle push from the outside.

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Sasuke entered the Hokage's office as a walk-in visitor, surprised to find Kakashi relatively free of his duties for the moment. When the Uchiha passed through the doorway, he saw that the silver-headed Sixth was seated in the chair behind his desk, lounging backward with a book in his hand to conceal his eyes. His aide, Shizune, was there as well, leaning on the far corner of the desk and writing something on a pad and paper. She was the first one to look up, and she sprang to a straight standing position as soon as she realized that somebody had come in. "Sasuke!" she practically shrieked. "What can I help you with?" The dark-haired, long-serving assistant seemed to be embarrassed, but the Hokage himself hadn't even looked up from his novel until Sasuke spoke:

"I'm here for a mission. I'll accept anything that needs doing, but if it's possible I'd like something brief and well-paid." Sasuke didn't ask questions about why Shizune seemed so fidgety, but he let his imagination run wild with scandalous possibilities. Had he interrupted a subtle conversation?

Kakashi tipped his book downward to lock eyes with his visitor, folding the tome shut after sliding a bookmark into place. "Good morning, Sasuke; first off, let me admit that I'm surprised to see that you're still in the village; do you mind if I ask what's made you so eager to take on a mission after last night?"

"Mm," Sasuke hummed, looking sideways to Shizune like she was a stranger. He had seen her before, and he knew that she was another part of Sakura and Tsunade's network of medical ninja who were all planning to open a new children's hospital together at some point in the future, but little more than that. Disregarding the dark-haired woman's presence, he spoke frankly: "I made a promise to Sakura that I'd make a two-week effort to settle back into Konoha. If that's going to happen, I'll need to make some money for a place to stay; I'd rather not sleep outside every night if I can help it." It was a simple and truthful answer; a utilitarian one.

"If that's all it is, I could offer up a room in the Hokage residence to you. I'd hate to see a shinobi of your caliber trouble himself with any of the dull missions I've got up for grabs right now." Kakashi waved around a loose pamphlet of papers in one hand; the ranks of the missions were visible along the corners as he flapped them. Most were C and D, with a single B-rank nestled in the middle. "Unless, of course, you're just _especially_ bored and are in need of something distracting to do, in which case I think I've got the _perfect_ assignment to give you."

Sasuke shrugged, leaning his weight onto his left foot, always wary of shifts in his balance due to his missing limb. It was a constant struggle to stay perfectly even, and sometimes he felt himself making a subtle shift in his stance one way or the other that threatened to jar his equilibrium. "A room in the mansion is a generous offer, but I don't think it's the right choice for me. Thanks for the hospitality, but I'll have to decline," Sasuke said as he cut another glance to Shizune. He didn't want to speak so openly in front of her; he trusted Kakashi, but he didn't trust the girl who served the Hokage's office out of what _seemed_ to be nothing more than habit. She was Tsunade's aide before Kakashi's, and had for some reason insisted on keeping the occupation through the transition. "Since Sakura wants me to 'settle in,' I'd rather find my _own_ place, even though it's probably going to be a short stay."

Kakashi sighed, shutting his eyes. He laid down the stack of missions and folded his arms across his upper torso. "Nobody ever wants to take me up on my generous offers anymore...what good is my position if I don't get to share the perks with my favorite students?"

Shizune gave Kakashi an encouraging, though nervous, smile. "Lord Hokage, I think it's just that your pupils are so _independent_ that they'd rather earn things for themselves...you've made them all _very_ strong over the years. Consider Sasuke, Sakura, and Naruto's self-reliance as a good thing and pat yourself on the back." She was met with a pair of ponderous looks from Sasuke and Kakashi, and she cleared her throat awkwardly before turning her nose back down to her notepad. She busily began scratching out a few more unseen details onto the top of the page with a silver pen.

Sasuke hmphed, stepping closer to the Hokage's desk and laying his hand upon the wood with all five fingers splayed out. "It's like I said—I want a mission that pays well, and I don't _particularly_ care what it is."

Kakashi opened his eyes half-lidded and wrung his hands together in thought. "Before we talk about that, there's something else that has come up that I think is a bit more important to the village as a whole. The other Kages and I have recently started to put together a plan that will strengthen the bonds between all five villages, as well as serve to be an outlet for pent-up soldiers who aren't quite _satisfied_ with peace-time. So far we've only seen spurts of restlessness, but we're going to see a lot of anger boiling over in the coming years if we don't come up with a way to alleviate it soon. People need a constructive outlet, and we're short on exciting missions nowadays."

Sasuke listened, but he didn't seem to understand why he was being told about it. Aside from his own obvious anger problems that might have needed an outlet, he didn't feel like he should be involved in the discussion at all: "What does this have to do with me, exactly?" he asked.

Kakashi pulled out another stack of papers from the seemingly-infinite load of work upon his desk. Though he was taking a break and seemed pretty bored, there were still a lot of duties he had yet to fulfill that morning. "Our chosen method of alleviating the frustration in our troops is to hold a combat tournament between all five of the great nations and their respective villages. I've already agreed to host the battles inside Konoha; we'll be using the rebuilt Chunin Exams stadium. As for how this ties into _you?_ Honestly, I'd like you to participate, Sasuke. I think you could be one of the star attractions who can drum up interest—plus, you could show off some of your skills and make a good name for yourself all across the world."

"I don't _need_ to make a good name for myself," Sasuke said dryly, feeling as if he was being used as a marketing tool. He gave Kakashi an ice-cold glance that caused Shizune to step back as a secondary bit of collateral damage. "I'd rather be forgotten, at this point..."

Kakashi shook his head, leafing through the sheets of paper he had picked up. He produced a folded list of rules and restrictions already decided upon for the 'games.' "If not for _yourself_ , then would you do it as a way to encourage the participation of others? I know it seems sleazy of me to parade you around like a _villain_ to be conquered, but can you imagine how many people would like a fair chance to fight you? I won't try to force you into it, but I think you might even _enjoy_ yourself if you give it a chance. How long has it been since you've heard somebody cheer your name?"

Sasuke thought back to his battle against Gaara during the Chunin Exams; even though he was single-minded in those days, he couldn't lie to his former sensei and suggest that he _hadn't_ enjoyed the exhilaration of the crowd when he stepped into the ring. He could still hear his own name echoing in his ears from back then, even as he stood in Kakashi's office pretending not to care. "They won't cheer for me, this time...they'll cheer for whomever shows up trying to _defeat_ me."

Kakashi shrugged; it was a fair point, but he was prepared for that response. He was the man with a thousand jutsu and a thousand-and-one contingency plans: "Naruto told me that, as a part of your planned revolution, you were willing to turn yourself into the common enemy that brought the five nations together through mutual hatred. That would have been a terrible burden for you to bear on the _actual_ global stage, but would it be so bad to play that role for a friendly tournament? You'll be booed when you walk into the arena, and you'll defeat every single opponent you're matched with, but when the fight is over you'll have the chance to shake hands with the one you vanquished and show the crowd that you're not a monster. The people who hate you, Sasuke, don't actually know anything _about_ you. They only know about their own nightmares; they know the dark-sided stories of Madara, Itachi, and...Obito." Kakashi paused for a half a second before uttering the name of his old friend. The halt was barely perceptible, but it _was_ there. "I know that the status of your _own_ name doesn't matter to you, but your _family_ name could use some redemption, don't you think? Consider it as a new chance to show the people your real self. Prove to all your doubters that Sasuke Uchiha is a changed man, and a valuable asset in the fight to maintain _peace_."

Sasuke listened to every word, and it was annoying how much sense the Hokage made. Kakashi was ever the level-headed pragmatist when it came to persuasive speaking; he could make even a terrible idea sound like a good one, but further on top of that fact was the part that made him an excellent teacher and Hokage: he could somehow make his 'terrible' ideas work out _better_ than a traditionally good one. Left without much argument, Sasuke clutched his forehead and started laughing quietly, dragging his fingers down the side of his cheek. "Ha...what _is_ this, Kakashi? Did you get together with Naruto and Sakura to come up with some kind of coordinated plan to keep me in the village forever? First, Sakura makes me promise to stay... conveniently, she suggests that I go to you for missions. Am I supposed to believe that it's a coincidence that you're here with this sudden opportunity to give my family name a real chance to be forgiven and respected? It's all too _obvious_ , Lord Hokage." He was irritated and he didn't try to hide it; he didn't like being _conspired_ against, and certainly not by his trusted 'family.' "If I look behind your desk, am I going to find a net designed to capture me if I refuse?" He knew he wasn't making sense, but since the wedding _nothing_ made sense to him. Sakura's good-natured encouragement had eased his pain just a bit, but there was still the daunting task of making himself feel at home again.

Kakashi was legitimately shocked by the avenue of paranoia which Sasuke had chosen to follow. "Well actually, Sasuke...Naruto and Sakura don't know anything _about_ this tournament, yet. As a matter of fact, you're the very first shinobi of Konoha that I've told about it at _all_ , other than Shizune here. It was only just proposed to me last night, and that was barely a minute after you stormed off in a huff from the party."

Sasuke spitefully wanted to keep right on believing that he was being lied to, but he could see in Kakashi's eyes that it was the truth. The Hokage was an honest man when it came to important things, and though the last Uchiha truly wanted to call his old mentor out, he found himself conflicted yet again and faced a crucial decision: Yes or no? Making the choice was going to be difficult no matter what, and the tournament was still barely a twinkle on the Five Kages' eyes. It could still have been months before it started; just how long was Sasuke expected to play in his childhood sandbox before he was finally allowed to leave it for good?

"What are you holding, there?" Sasuke asked, entertaining his own curiosity about the folded slip in the Hokage's hand, and also hoping to uncover any information that might have helped him make his choice. "It doesn't look very official to me."

Just like Kakashi's own initial plans, his personal notes of the power limitations for the tournament were scrawled out on a napkin on the fly. Kakashi unfolded it and passed it across to Sasuke to allow him to have a closer look. "The other Kages decided on these restrictions to keep the fighting _somewhat_ fair...but mostly the list is designed to limit damage to the competition venue when the major players clash."

Sasuke took the fragile note and began to read. Several of the restrictions only applied to him: _No Susano'o, no Rinnegan, no Mangekyo Sharingan; basic Sharingan is allowed. Genjutsu should be used sparingly._ Sasuke found himself questioning the wording:"Used 'sparingly'? What does that mean? It doesn't sound like much of a rule if it's not forbidden completely..."

Kakashi gave a nod. "It's more of a guideline, in your case...Look, Sasuke; the entire world, or at least the higher-ups, know that you and Naruto could sweep this entire tournament with _one hand_ —eh, I mean..." he slipped up. The Hokage got a bead of sweat on the side of his forehead, and Shizune quickly found a clean handkerchief and wiped it off for him. Sasuke's brow twitched, but it ended there and Kakashi poised himself again: "What I meant to say is that nobody expects you to lose, even _with_ these limitations. The restraints are for show, mostly—the final fight is almost certainly going to be between you and Naruto, provided that he even participates. The point is that it won't be very much fun for the crowd _or_ the participants if you go all-out from the beginning of every battle. What we mean by 'genjutsu should be used sparingly' is that we don't want you to open and end every single round with one quick glance. We all know you can do it, so you don't _need_ to do it. Do you understand?"

Sasuke nodded with comprehension. He continued reading down the list as he answered. "I get it, yeah...but is it really safe to let people fight us? I know Naruto will be able to hold himself back, but what if _I_ accidentally hurt somebody? That wouldn't reflect well on my family name, after all..."

Kakashi hummed, cupping his chin with one hand. "Just treat them like they're made of _paper_ , and pretend that you don't want to _tear_ them—from what little I've seen of your strength, that's what it will take. Also, if necessary, use your Sharingan to ensure that your opponent isn't just _playing_ tough; pay close attention to how they move and speak. These won't be battles to the death, obviously—if you think your opponent is pushing him or herself too hard during a match, give me a nod and I'll do what I can to stop the fight before they hurt themselves."

Sasuke was getting more and more intrigued. He could actually go for some _fun_ , especially if it meant putting some of his old-fashioned arrogance to good use. He remembered the days when fighting _excited_ him; he had once looked forward to showing his strength, and he knew the same was true for Naruto. Having another tournament would mean that they could both relive some of the nostalgia of the Chunin Exams—for better or worse, those tests played a crucial role in defining the two inheritors of the Sage of Six Paths' will.

Sasuke felt something growing in his gut; he was honestly eager for the contest to come, especially after having thought about it for a while. He read off some of the further limitations: "I think Naruto's going to like this, as long as he can remember all the rules...No sage mode, no tailed beast chakra or transformations, no summons larger than a ninja hound..." Sasuke chuckled, rolling the napkin-list back up and offering it onto the desk in front of him. "Aren't you going to restrict usage of the Eight Gates?"

Kakashi shook his head. "No, but here's why: since I'm _sure_ that Rock Lee is going to be the very first non-noble member of the village to submit his application, I'm going to give him a rare treat—the guaranteed opportunity to fight _you_ with everything he's got. When I draw up the brackets, I'm going to put the two of you together for the very first match. Lee has made an incredible reputation for himself by following in Guy's footsteps. If pitting him up against you doesn't build anticipation for the spectators, then I don't know what will."

"You could have me fight _Naruto_ first..." Sasuke suggested with a twinkled smirk.

"No, no...we've got to save something like that for the main event." Kakashi waved off the idea. "Anyway, that's only one leg of the tournament's structure—we're dividing the applicants into three distinct tiers. Beginner Tier will be for most genin and chunin who want to enter. People like Konohamaru Sarutobi and his team are sure to want to be a part of the event, but I'd rather not see them all knocked out in the beginning rounds against opponents they're not ready for. General Tier will be for all the jonin, ANBU, and any especially-confident chunin. The third and most powerful tier will be called the Exceptional Tier; the best of the best will be a part of that branch, including you, Naruto, Killer Bee, and any of the past or present Kage who wish to enter. There is also an open invitation to any and all jonin who think they have a chance to fight at that level, so the bracket won't be as small as it sounds. I imagine that the _majority_ of Konoha jonin who enter are going to aim for the top tier—if they want to risk an early defeat for a chance to fight against you or Naruto, it'll be their choice."

Due to how Kakashi had pretty fairly laid out the rudimentary details, Sasuke could only summon up one question, a personal one: "Why tell me about it _now_? I can't imagine it's going to start any time soon."

Kakashi tucked his hands behind his head and looked up toward the ceiling. "Actually, it ties into the assignment I mentioned—the one I think would be perfect for you. For starters, whether it's made up of one or a _thousand_ , the Uchiha Clan is still arguably the leaf's most legendary house. It's only proper that I extend an invitation toward you, personally, as their sole representative. Likewise, I'm sending invitations out to all of the prominent clans in the village today, and I thought perhaps that you could be my envoy. I can't trust the usual deliverymen with such a prestigious task, and I can't exactly do it myself with all the work I've got laid out in front of me."

 _Work. Right._ Sasuke smirked as he noted the bookmarked page of Kakashi's leisure read. "Don't you have a squad of twenty-something trained messengers who would _die_ before letting information fall into the wrong hands? What's wrong with sending some of _them_?" the Uchiha asked with a lifted brow.

Kakashi huffed, feeling rightly like he was being interrogated. "Think of it like your chance to extend an olive branch to the significant families; if you're going to resurrect the Uchiha name somehow, you're going to want to be on good terms with the other large clans in the village beforehand. Inuzuka, Sarutobi, Yamanaka, Akimichi, Nara; you know the drill. Showing up to their doors with a respectful smile and a missive stamped with the Hokage's seal is a good way to make a fresh impression. I _want_ to help you fit back in, Sasuke, but it's up to you whether you do it or not." Kakashi reached for his book, opening it to his marked position and resuming his reading. "Time to choose; I want to get these invitations rolled out as quickly as possible."

While taking a deep breath and facing yet another difficult set of crossroads, Sasuke looked Kakashi in the eyes and delivered his answer.

* * *

"Lady Hinata, please; it's time to wake up."

Hinata Hyuuga had already awoken to a much more gentle urging than Sasuke had been given that morning...though she _was_ being awoken for the _sixth time,_ and she was getting increasingly bothered by the gentle call. Her door was being rapped upon and the sound was gently ringing through her room. The voice of her attentive bodyguard, Ko, bounced through the expertly-crafted oaken slab that shut her away from the outside world; the vibrations of his calls eventually found their way into Hinata's blanket-muffled ears after ricocheting off of the smooth, cream-colored walls. She tossed around on her mattress and hugged her covers around her shoulders, digging her chin into the softness and letting off a tiny whimper. She wasn't ready to face the world again; she wasn't even ready to open her eyes to the new day's sun.

"Your father is getting worried, Lady Hinata!"

Another knock, just like clockwork. The passage of every few minutes since nine in the morning had been marked by the sound of polite knuckles on the frame of her door, and she only wanted it to _stop_. She was far too kind to ask her attendant to go away outright, but she was growing more and more tempted to do it. She was usually _so_ cooperative that it made her seem like a pushover, but the truth was that she often had very strong feelings that drove every decision she made. That day, her resolute decision was to stay shut inside her room and hope for silence.

Though she had wanted to simply melt away, she knew she couldn't avoid answering the call forever—it was expressly forbidden for any member of the clan to use their Byakugan to peer into another's room, for decency reasons, but she had the suspicion that she was being watched even so. Whether it was by Ko, her sister, or her father, she wasn't sure, but she felt pressure from _something_ that finally urged her to peel open her lids and see the light through the narrow slats in her window shutters. She had been content with seeing a vast, empty space of luminous red as the sunlight had tried to penetrate her closed eyes, but the solid color gave way to blurry yellowish-white beams and the vague imprint of her room's decorum when she dared to split her isolated world horizontally across the middle.

"I'm sorry, Ko...could you please tell my father that I'm feeling ill today?" Hinata managed to sing a formal response with her gentle voice, and the careful knocking finally stopped. She was a loving sort of person, but even _she_ had the capacity to get annoyed when a sound like a woodpecker brought her out of a soothing sleep over and over again. Was it so wrong to feel miserable on the morning after a life-shattering marriage? Never would she say it aloud to Ko, but she was _afraid_ to face the new world. Her room was comfortable; familiar. She didn't want to leave it. At least nothing in the space of those four walls had changed within the past twenty-four hours...by contrast, it felt to her like everything _else_ in the universe had been irreversibly shifted by a few crucial degrees.

She heard bare footsteps departing from the other side of her door, presumably wandering off to inform Hiashi, and she breathed a relieved sigh. She curled herself up and hugged her bare knees to the base of her chin under the covers; she rolled into a ball and wanted once again to shrink down to nothing and simply vanish. Hinata had no delusions about why Naruto had chosen to marry Sakura instead of her—there were a half a dozen reasons she could pick, chief among them the fact that Hinata herself had never really tried to push her way into his life.

She had always been too shy, too meek; every time her beloved, blonde-headed inspiration passed her by, she froze and blushed and nearly passed out. The one time she had managed to find the strength to confess her love for him, she had also been prepared to _die_. She could feel that Naruto cared about her, but she also had to admit that he cared about _every_ person in their world; she knew there was nothing that made her any more special than the rest.

When she tried to lift her arms and knead her flowing, deep blue hair, she found herself to weigh more than she remembered. Her pale white limbs wanted to rise and bend, but she felt herself dragged down toward the the core of the earth below with unrelenting firmness. She fought and struggled to raise her fingers, but each digit felt like it was made of lead and was fighting against a powerful magnet. Her body could writhe and struggle against her bedclothes, but she couldn't convince herself to climb out of the comforting embrace of silk.

Hair filled her face, ruffled and frayed by the previous night's tossing and turning. She had been having a nightmare; she couldn't remember everything that had happened to her in the blackness, but she remembered running away from something. Eternally, the darkness stretched front and back, but at end of the line she _did_ recall that she saw a pair of red, shining eyes that pierced into her soul with a sinister clarity. She felt herself naked, alone, and afraid, trembling and repulsed...but when she had seen those eyes in front of her, the fear inexplicably went away and she could feel her pulse beginning to slow. The gaze was horrifying, in truth; unnatural and dangerous. She didn't really understand why she had felt so comfortable beneath the raging fires of those disembodied, dream-made eyes.

She couldn't explain her own dream, nor could she even recall what she had been running from in the first place. The only pieces of the nightmare that she could still picture in her head were the volcanic eyes. Before the dream had progressed further, before the veil could be lifted from the mysterious, watchful glare, she had been stirred awake by the noise of her well-meaning bodyguard. For the past hour and a half (or even more, she didn't know for certain) she had been hoping for him to go away so that she could fall back to sleep and return to her dream. The suspense was killing her...or was it her _sorrow_ doing so?

Once she had opened her eyes, it was too late to go back to that same imagined place; she lost her grip on the reality her mind had shaped for her, which made it impossible for it to be rekindled. Perhaps it was for the best—she had already been forcibly awoken from a different fantasy world during the Fourth War, and she shouldn't have been so eager to wish for a _second_ pleasant dream to last for eternity. Besides, hadn't she herself been the one to label it as a nightmare? Why would she want to go back to a _nightmare_?

She finally managed to raise an arm off of the white sheet of her bed, her fingers at last obeying each of her commands as she looked at her painted nails, dark violet to match the dress she had worn the night before. She peered over the edge of her bed to see that her gown had been carelessly discarded onto the floor. There were dark spots along the shoulders and chest of the gorgeous, sparkling garment. Her tears had left stains, and she remembered every single drop that had fallen into every specific place.

She felt like she could have cried for hours in misery at the wedding...so why had she stopped? The whole night was hazy, but it was returning to focus as the disorientation of deep sleep cleared out of her mind. When did she stop crying, and why? Was it because Ko had found her and brought her back for the photo? No...that wasn't it. She thought again, rubbing her forehead and squeezing her eyelids tight to push out the moisture collected along the corners of her lids. _Sasuke!_ She remembered. _I told him I would see him back at the party...why didn't I...?_ She also recalled being hastily pulled away from the reception by her father's well-meaning but disruptive hand. He had seen the tears staining her attire, no doubt; perhaps there had been some latent swelling around her eyes to reveal her dried sadness as well. 'Let's get you out of here,' he had said, wanting to spare her from more pain. Hinata jolted in bed to sit upright, her blanket hanging against her waist as her upper half was introduced to the cool morning air in her room.

She shivered and hugged herself. The thin, sleeveless cotton shirt she had slept in wasn't doing much to ward off the early spring chill. She rubbed her arms with her hands and tried to get her blood flowing more warmly, turning her head to verify that she was indeed in her room and that, indeed, nothing had changed overnight. She could see her dressy black sandals carelessly dropped near her door; had she been so distraught by the wedding that she hadn't even taken them off at the front of the house? Years worth of habits had failed her during her moments of self-pity. "Oh, Naruto...why can't I just be happy for you...?" She asked the question to her empty room, wiping the corners of her eyes and clearing the sleep away from the nooks beside her nose.

As she rubbed her eyes, she felt a peculiar sensation along the edge of her cheek, as if a tear had rolled down her face and left behind a lingering tingle. She rubbed her thumb across the crescent-shaped arch; it was almost like an itch that had needed to be scratched, but no matter how she nursed the sensation she couldn't change the way it felt. It was as if her body was trying to tell her something, but she was unable to read the signal and was instead nagged without end. How could she find the answer to a question which hadn't even been asked yet? Finally seeing clearly after escaping the fog of waking, Hinata looked to the clock mounted high on her wall to note that it was later than she thought—half-past noon. Had Naruto already left with Sakura for their honeymoon? Part of her hoped so—she didn't think she could bear to see either of them again; not yet.

After a brief respite, Hinata heard another knock at her door and then clenched her hands firmly against her sheets, crumpling them around her thighs. She caught herself wanting to make everything _go away_. She wanted to cry, even, but she had no more tears to shed; in fact, she was genuinely thirsty after how much water she had let off the night before, both from crying and from sweating in the temperamental climate. She felt her throat dried and uncooperative when she tried to speak again. "I-I'm fine," she stuttered in response to the quiet knock.

She turned to put her feet on the wooden floor beside her bed and lifted herself to stand with slender hands on the short table beside her. She could see herself in the body-sized mirror along the wall, shapely and fit from head to toe, dressed for comfortable sleeping. She had no honest doubts about it—she was beautiful, healthy, and strong; she could clearly see that about herself using her own two eyes. Why, then, did she allow her brain to tell her that she _wasn't_ beautiful and strong? She hadn't wanted to believe that Naruto's choice of a wife had troubled her so deeply that she had begun to feel ugly, but it _had_.

She knew that she could only blame herself for not being assertive enough; for not telling Naruto more than once about how she felt toward him. If she had tried harder, might her unrequited lover have looked at her in the same way those eyes from her dream had looked through her? Could she have _finally_ felt loved in return? Again, Hinata knew that Naruto cared for her—but she once more reminded herself that Naruto cared for _everybody_ he met. She was no better and no worse than any other person in his eyes; only Sakura was special enough to become his wife, after all.

The knocking came again, and Hinata finally felt courageous enough to let the world beyond her door into her thoughts. She made herself decent by finding and putting on a loose pair of long, black pants to cover her smooth legs down to the ankles. She started walking on bared feet to reach the doorknob, then turned it open to greet whomever was out there. Hinata's surprise came through in her voice more than her expression; her face felt immobile, all its concentration devoted to that persistent streak that painted her left cheek with invisible, scratchy fire. "Hanabi...?"

Hinata's younger sister had a look of deep concern. "I heard you say you were ill...want to take a walk with me and see if some fresh air might help?" Hanabi was sincere; despite her sometimes-intense rivalry with her sibling, she still loved Hinata and would have done almost anything to see her smile. She wasn't as naïve as her 'younger' status might have suggested, and she knew all too well about the cause of her sister's depression. "We can go through the gardens and pick some flowers for your hair, maybe skip a few stones along the stream..." She had a hand extended for Hinata to take, but it was left hanging.

"Sorry, Hanabi," Hinata whispered, laying her hand on her shorter sibling's head and brushing down the side of her hair. "I'm not up for anything like that today. Can you please tell father that I'd like to be left alone, if he asks again?"

Hanabi caught the hand in her hair and turned to clasp it with her fingers. "Don't be like that...come on, at least get out of the house. You've been sleeping all morning long and nobody's gotten to see you. You already missed breakfast...but maybe we could go get some lunch together soon? Just the two of us, I promise."

Hinata quivered where she stood, feeling like she was on legs of melting ice and might topple over at any second. Even standing up had been a struggle, but being asked to leave the house and furthermore escape the boundaries of the compound made her queasy in the stomach. "I...I can't, I really can't." Hinata tugged her hand out of her little sister's hold, which earned her an annoyed scowl as compensation.

"If I tell father about this, you _know_ he'll make you go. Humor me, sis, okay? I want to spend some time with you this afternoon, and I'm not letting you send me away even if I have to stand here all day." Hanabi's scowl turned to pleading and she tucked her hands behind her back. "I _know_ what's wrong with you, alright? You don't have to act all mysterious about it. That's why I just want it to be the two of us; I _get_ what's happening, so you can talk to me about it all you want. You really shouldn't be alone right now, because being alone at a time like _this_ is the worst thing that could happen to somebody...A person can get _real_ used to loneliness after a while if they keep shutting others out, and I don't want that for you. Come on; finish getting dressed and let's go someplace _nice_ to eat."

Hinata felt smaller than an ant for a moment; she was essentially being lectured by her little sister, and that wasn't what she wanted that morning. What _did_ she want? She wanted Naruto, but she missed her chance and couldn't blame anybody else for that. So _what_ if she had been the only one to admire him since they were both children? It was selfish of her to think that she should be the only one who had any right to be in love with him, wasn't it? Her lack of boldness was a big part of her missing out on his love, and she recognized truth in what Hanabi had said. A person _could_ get used to loneliness, and people like that were the most frightening of them all. She thought back to the time of her confession— _I love you, Naruto_ , she had said. _I always will._

She still had a prominent scar in the side of her torso from where the terrible black rod had pierced her stomach and nearly killed her. Sometimes it still hurt like a fresh wound when she thought about it. She had been _ready_ to die, but she definitely hadn't _wanted_ to die—and certainly she hadn't known just how horribly it would hurt when she was struck by the deadly man's weaponry. _He called himself Pain,_ Hinata thought. _I'll bet he_ _ **used**_ _ **to be**_ _a good man...but had he eventually gotten used to loneliness, too...?_ _How does a person become like that? Could it happen to me if I'm not careful?_

Rather than take the chance of things happening that way, Hinata gave a nod to her sister and moved to close her door as she spoke. "Just a minute. Let me fix my hair and find a nicer shirt to wear..." She shut the heavy wood tight and turned to lay her back across its sturdy surface once it was latched into place. She could have just ignored her sister from there, but what would that make of her? Hinata wasn't afraid of becoming a monster—not one like Pain, at least—because she trusted herself...but at the same time, she also didn't want to damage her bonds with her friends and family by pushing them away.

She wished that her heart would simply stop _hurting_ so badly, but the wish didn't come true no matter how hard she pressed her hands into the softness of her chest to find the steady drumming of the vital organ beneath. When she closed her eyes and steadied her breaths, she could clearly feel the harsh thump of her heartbeat pressing against her ribs. The beat felt strong despite how weak she thought it should have been.

Maybe she was being too hard on herself. Was destiny really so fickle as to be changed by one or two choices along the way? If she was meant to be with Naruto, wouldn't it have happened no matter what she did? She tried to rationalize her thoughts, to put herself into a realistic state of mind—Naruto was famous, a hero to the entire world. He could choose anybody he wanted; Hinata knew that she wasn't the only one who loved him more than anything else, but still hadn't been chosen. Was it too selfish of her to believe that she was the one who suffered the _most_ due to the decision? She hated feeling self-centered, but as she listened to her own beating heart, she could think of nobody else _but_ her own self. Or so she thought until her mind drifted outward. _Those eyes were so strangely soothing. I wonder if I'll dream of them again tonight..._

Hinata must have been musing for longer than she realized, because Hanabi's voice punctured the door at her back and reminded her of what she had already agreed to do. "Oy, Hinata, hurry up; I know you're in a bad mood, but I'm _hungry!_ " There was a playful whine, a sisterly tease in the way she complained. The innocence of it all brought a hesitant smile to Hinata's lovely white face.

"Y-yes, sorry Hanabi," Hinata answered through the thick wooden barrier between them. She hurried on light feet to enter her in-room personal bathroom and turn on the water, then she began to wash and correct her hair. After each strand was cleaned with jasmine-scented shampoo and then carefully organized, she felt a little bit better—not _good_ , but definitely better. Her next step was finding her favorite white-and-lavender jacket in the closet, which she draped over her arms and shoulders and then zipped up tightly. " _Coming!_ " she called out, picking up a few various items from her nightstand to tuck into the deep pockets of her black pants.

She didn't _want_ to resign to loneliness. Her family was there for her no matter what...but there was still a massive piece of her heart that had gone missing once the possibility of being with Naruto had been removed from her life. There were numerous kinds of loneliness; a person with many friends could still feel alone without family; a person with family could still feel alone without a lover. Hinata was worried about her future, but at least she had _somebody_ to turn to.

"Let's go, Hanabi," Hinata said softly as she came out of her room and took her sister's hand. They were about five years apart, but Hinata still managed to feel smaller than her fifteen-year-old sister as she felt the strength of her grip. Training with their father had certainly paid off after all those years, and Hinata wondered about just how strong Hanabi had actually become. "And thanks..." she shyly mumbled as the pair put their shoes on at the door and walked out of the house together.

At first glance, the bright afternoon sky didn't _seem_ to be falling down in flaming chunks; perhaps the changed outside world wasn't such a frightening place after all.

* * *

 **That's it for now; next update is coming soon!**


	7. Getting Out There

**This one flip-flops back and forth between Sasuke's and Hinata's scenes. A line break will signify the change as usual.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

Hinata had been successfully liberated from her shell in the house, and Hanabi couldn't have been happier; they walked together for a few minutes, and although the younger sibling tried to encourage her sister to keep her chin up, it was little use. Hinata was looking at the ground as if she were terrified of meeting people in the eyes. Hanabi was already losing her patience for the pitiful act: "Come on, sis, you can't just act like that forever...I know it's only been a day, but you're a Hyuuga! We're strong, remember?" She gave Hinata a gentle pat on the lower back; the height difference was noticeable, so she reached wherever she could without stretching.

"I'm sorry; I don't mean to embarrass you..." Hinata hushed, barely audible amongst the crowded street they were walking across. They seemed to go unnoticed; in Konoha there were nearly a dozen prominent clans and plenty of other members of the Hyuuga family. The pair didn't especially stick out, even though they were the daughters of the most powerful member of their clan. Hinata was grateful for the open-ended solitude, and every now and then she would peek between parted strands of hair to look left and right. She might not have wanted to admit it, but she was as hungry as Hanabi was, and the thought of a good meal away from home was actually a major part of her agreement to go out.

"It's not that you embarrass me, it's just..." Hanabi pouted, puffing air from her nose. "I don't know. I want to see my _strong_ sister again. The wedding may have just happened last night, but you've been mopey ever since those two got engaged in the first place; are you _sure_ you're not getting over it yet?"

Hinata looked to Hanabi with a neutral smile. The curved slant was affectionate, but maybe a little bit _strained_. "I know...I should be used to it by now, but...seeing them put the rings on was _different_." She looked to her own empty finger, not envying marriage as a whole but absolutely envying Sakura. _She's got his ring on right_ _ **now**_ _,_ Hinata thought, wishing it had been on her digit instead. While she was losing herself to the broiling jealousy, Hinata was suddenly grabbed by the wrist and pulled aside by Hanabi.

"There it is!" the younger Hyuuga declared, pointing a determined finger toward a large, fancily-constructed restaurant. Its colors were red and gray, resembling the motif of the clan that had organized its building and opening—in the wake of the growing peace, most of the prominent ninja clans in the village had been forced to find alternate means of income; it was harder to remain wealthy by only using their combat prowess to accomplish missions in the present climate. The Akimichi Clan had opted to open a restaurant; predictable, but delicious. It had quickly risen to prominence as one of the best places to eat in Konoha, and the small shack had been expanded a half-a-dozen times within three years, almost as quickly as one of the clan members using their famous expansion technique upon their own body.

"Here...?" Hinata puzzled, her head finally lifting high enough to get a good look at the multi-story eatery; the symbol for 'food' was engraved upon a large wooden sign above the double doors, and the doors themselves were emblazoned with the Akimichi Clan's recognizable symbol, one half upon each slab. Whenever the doors were opened, the symbol parted as if to invite guests into the aromatic hospitality of the Akimichis. "But it's so crowded," Hinata thought out loud, triggering the use of her Byakugan and allowing the veins to grow briefly along her face. As her pupils tightened and her lids squeezed, she looked beyond the walls of the restaurant to see dozens—no, more like _hundreds_ —of patrons within. She blushed and shut her eyes, pulling back from Hanabi with a whimper.

Hanabi was walking forward when Hinata pulled back, making it easy for her to lose the grip she had on her sister's wrist. Hanabi turned and put her hands on her hips, leaning her upper half forward to act like a scolding mother. "Hey now, you agreed to eat with me, and _that's_ where I want to eat...so let's go!" She was acting a bit brattier than she had been while they were at home; Hinata noticed it quickly. Had she been lured into a trap with honey?

"N-no, I know," Hinata admitted. She _had_ agreed, but she hadn't thought it all the way through. Even if nobody approached her directly, she had to imagine that most of the overheard conversations inside would involve Naruto and his wedding; an event like that couldn't _possibly_ happen without becoming the talk of the town for a few days before and after. Naruto was everybody's hero and inspiration; there was already realistic talk of making him the next Hokage, even though the time for making such a critical decision was still a long way off.

"So then let's go, huh?" Hanabi took two steps to get in front of her timid sister, clasping both hands around the older sibling's larger palm and squeezing tight. "Relax, I didn't forget that I promised it'd just be the two of us..." then she bit her lower lip. "Actually, I already made a reservation for a private two-person room in the back...and I did it last month, just in case you weren't in any shape to sit around with the others today..."

"Last month...?" Hinata trailed off. Was she really so predictable? It didn't take long for her to suppose that she _was_ , since she had known pretty well herself that she was going to be a wreck the day after the wedding. "You planned that far ahead?"

Hanabi smiled sheepishly, looking up at her sister with a smidge of guilt. "You aren't mad, are you?"

Hinata smiled and brought her hand up to cover one of Hanabi's, all four of the sisters' hands now interwoven between where they stood apart from one another. "No, I'm not mad, just...a little surprised you would do something like this for me..." she mumbled, looking into the restaurant again. So many people were there; faces she both recognized and didn't, each eating or ordering food that looked _especially_ enticing to her growling tummy.

"Of course I did it for you, Hinata," Hanabi quickly said, eyes wide and staring up at her sister with purpose. "You're my sister. I can't bear to think about you wasting away in your room, feeling sad and alone...because you'll _never_ be alone, even when it feels like you are. So many people love you, Hinata; please don't forget about that. I know that it...well, it _sucks_ that he picked somebody else, but that doesn't mean you weren't _good enough_..."

"Then what _does_ it mean, Hanabi?" Hinata asked pointedly, wanting to listen but also unwilling to give up on her depression so easily.

"I guess, well..." Hanabi stumbled over her response because she hadn't thought _that_ far ahead. She improvised: "I guess it just means that there's somebody out there who's even _better_ for you than Naruto would have been! Yeah, that's right; and you'll end up with _that_ person instead, and you'll be grateful that you didn't miss out!" It was a stretch and she knew it. Who could be better than Naruto? The jinchuriki was chiefly responsible for having saved the entire world from the worst criminals and conspirators in its long history. He was humble and kind, sweet and sensitive, strong and helpful; Hanabi had to admit that there were times when even _she_ was jealous of Sakura, as odd as it might have sounded. It was difficult to even _suggest_ that a better option could exist, but she spouted whatever she thought her big sister would have wanted to hear.

Hinata felt the sincere effort in her sister's voice, but she could also tell that it was a desperate scramble. Her response was a squeeze against Hanabi's two hands, splitting them apart so that each of the pair's fingers could interlock decisively. "Thanks for trying to cheer me up, Hanabi, but I don't think that's true. I missed my chance to be happy with him...and maybe he was my _only_ chance to be happy like that...but I'm glad I've still got _you_."

"You've got father, too—the whole entire clan is there for you." Hanabi reassured with a stern nod.

Hinata took one final, preparatory look toward the eatery before she gulped down her nerves and gave a determined nod. "Alright..." Just like her sister had said, she was a _Hyuuga_ ; she was meant to be _strong_. She had her family name backing her up; when her body felt weak and frail, thoughts of her family kept her standing up. What would Neji have thought of her if she had simply folded over and given up over something so petty as jealousy? With the kind of resolve that would normally be held with regard to a life-or-death decision, Hinata announced the following two words with a weight of grave intensity: _"Let's eat."_

* * *

 _So far, so good,_ Sasuke thought to himself as he carried a stack of missives with the seal of the Hokage upon the envelopes. As of five minutes prior, the stack was lighter by one note—he had successfully managed to knock on the door of the Sarutobi Clan's main residential area and deliver the message without a major incident. He was lucky, though—the one to answer the door was Konohamaru, a child who had been too young in the past to know every detail about Sasuke's betrayal. Sasuke had bowed his head like he had been practicing and had presented the enveloped invitation with a humble hand. Konohamaru didn't seem to have a clue what was going on, which was fine by Sasuke, as he left quickly after the task was completed.

His next stop was with the Nara Clan, perhaps a more fickle encounter depending on who came to the door. He chose Shikamaru's home, specifically, to approach. He knocked on the door and got what should have been a pleasant surprise, or so he assumed—Shikamaru's mother, Yoshino Nara, was the one who answered. The older woman looked Sasuke in the eyes without fear. "Good afternoon," she said to him, but her eyebrows were flexed into what was seemingly a permanent half-scowl to offset the kind greeting. "How may I help you?"

Sasuke reached into a secondary pouch that was hung over his shoulder in addition to his own belongings, fishing through it to find the informative packet that was labeled 'Nara,' singling it out and offering it forth. As he extended it, he narrated the delivery with the spiel he had been supplied with: "The Hokage personally sent me; I bear this message for your entire clan, my Lady," Sasuke churned out, smooth and warm. He could definitely be personable, when he so chose—though he usually chose not to be. "Please share it with your son and the rest of your people; if any of you are interested, then follow the instructions enclosed."

Yoshino yanked the envelope from Sasuke's hand and ripped it open on the spot, unfolding it and scouring one of several papers she found within. Sasuke was already turning to leave, considering his mission to be accomplished, but he was stopped by the clearing of a throat from behind. The guttural sound was followed by something that sounded exactly like a warning: "Don't come too close to my family again, Sasuke Uchiha..." The woman wasn't kidding, but perhaps she didn't know the sort of fire she was playing with.

"I beg your pardon?" Sasuke asked as he turned around, looking over his shoulder with the kindest expression he could. He didn't want to appear confrontational, but he had the _distinct urge_ to put on a bad attitude. _Peaceful thoughts, Sasuke._ "Rest assured, you don't need to worry; I will never do anything to hurt this village or its people again..."

Yoshino looked like she was about to rip the missive in half down the middle, her hands clutching the paper with white knuckles and trembling. She spoke through gritted teeth; maybe it wasn't so lucky after all that she was the one who had answered the door. "That's supposed to make it _better_? Never _again_? What about the people you've _already_ hurt!?" She nearly spat on him, but she was stopped from stepping forward by a hand on her shoulder, and then another that cupped over her grasp upon the letter.

"Mom...relax, I'll handle this," the youthful man said with a husky voice, one that sounded like he had recently picked up a smoking habit. Sasuke recognized him more from the wedding than as a kid, since he had started to grow a beard at the base of his chin. Yoshina was calmed by her son's arrival, but she looked at Sasuke with a death glare like she had hoped to melt him with her bottled hatred. "Go back inside and put that on the table for me, please," Shikamaru whispered into her ear, giving her shoulder a loving squeeze.

With one final aggressive exhale, Yoshina did turn about, and she huffed away from the door, hiding herself deeper in the house as Shikamaru watched her closely. Once she had gone around a corner, the Nara male's attention was turned entirely to Sasuke. "You'll have to forgive her...she blames the Uchiha Clan for what happened to Dad," Shikamaru murmured lazily, his shoulder and hip leaned against the door frame at his left.

"I don't blame her at all," Sasuke answered, turning to fully face his former classmate and size him up. Just like everybody else, Shikamaru had grown and matured, his face starting to look a lot more like his late father's. Truthfully, members of the Uchiha Clan _had_ been responsible for what happened to Shikaku Nara. Madara and Obito, two of the only three survivors at the time, had been the ones to facilitate the resurrection of the monster that destroyed the Alliance HQ. Sasuke hadn't been there to see it, but he knew about the bombardment via whispers and rumors. People didn't generally talk about it in the open, but the information still spread like a guided flame. "I expected worse, to be honest..." Sasuke added, trying to increase the levity.

Shikamaru gave a single, harsh huff from between smirking teeth. "You would've _gotten_ worse if I hadn't shown up. Mom's a real pain in the neck, sometimes..." He reached his hand behind his neck to rub along his spine and yawn. "So...what'd you bring us? I see you've got more of them." Dark, perceptive eyes were falling onto Sasuke's secondary messenger bag, which was filled with the same envelope, but each one had a different clan symbol upon it.

"It would be best if you looked at it for yourself. If I tried to explain it, I'd be here all day. It's nothing _serious_ , but I'm told that it's important nonetheless." Sasuke casually shucked the responsibility of getting too involved in a conversation. Not only did he have several more clans to visit as part of his voluntary duty, but he was also starting to get hungry and hated to talk on an empty stomach.

"Any reason _you're_ the one he sent?" Shikamaru inquired, ever the curious and attentive one.

"The Hokage told me that I should be the one to go, instead of a typical messenger; he said that making the deliveries would be a good way for me to start getting myself involved with the village again." Sasuke was antsy; he wanted to keep moving, wanted to escape the socializing and scrutiny. Although Shikamaru was friendly and carefree on the surface, the last Uchiha got the distinct sense that there were harsher feelings beneath the tactician's dull expression. Shikamaru's thoughts probably matched his mother's more closely than even the young Nara himself might have realized at the time. There was spite to be felt, even thought it was hidden in the lazy yawn coming out of his mouth.

"Yeah, well, sounds like a drag to me..." Shikamaru finally decided to say, dropping his hand from behind his neck and looking back into the house. "I'd better go check on Mom; she was pretty shaken up. Listen: be careful out there, Sasuke; some people don't want you around."

As Shikamaru turned to close the door on that note, Sasuke gave a nod. "Yeah, believe me...I _know_." The thunk of a shutting door was all it took for Sasuke to feel freed of his obligations there. Two clans down, several to go. Sasuke leafed through the documents as he walked away and used the provided map of the redesigned village to plan an efficient route. His next stop, based on that new plan, was the Yamanaka clan—and he knew exactly who he wanted to see.

* * *

Hanabi and Hinata had entered the restaurant and were standing near the entryway to await a host or hostess. A portly sort of man came up to a podium that held a stack of menus, and he leaned his huge hands onto the rim of the wooden platform. He looked at the pair of sisters with the friendliest grin Hinata thought she had ever seen, and he bellowed out his welcome: "Welcome to _Akimichi's World-Famous Ribs, Beans, and Chips_! Can I take it that you two darlings belong to the Hyuuga reservation on my list?" He poked at a small piece of paper, one adorned with column after column of hastily written out names and numbers; Hanabi's name was there in tiny lettering with a curled '2' beside it. The host must have recognized the Byakugan, as most people in the village could.

"That's right!" Hanabi said cheerfully, her arms held tightly close to her chest with her hands flattened together. She looked to Hinata and then remembered that the day's mood was a bit more delicate than that, clearing her throat and pursing her lips. "I mean...yes, that would be the two of us. Could you please have somebody escort us to our dining room right away?"

Hinata was looking past the greeter and into the main dining hall; it was a large hollow space with a lot of floor area and three higher levels of opened platforms that overlooked it. She felt like she was walking onto the stage of an opera house, the tiered seating making her dizzy as she looked higher and higher. She nearly stumbled, turning light-headed and feeling overcome with emotion. Even amongst all those people, her sister included, she felt so terribly isolated from the world. She existed on a plane that could be seen, heard, and felt by the outsiders, but no _love_ could poke through. She hid the sorrow from her sister, putting on a convincing smile and following along as a waiter arrived to guide them through the general public and into their rented space in the rear.

Just before the freedom of confinement could be properly embraced, Hinata heard a familiar voice cutting through the low chatter of the crowded restaurant: "Oy, Hinata! Come sit with us!" the male said, and Hinata turned to look upon him because she knew precisely who it was. Kiba Inuzuka, flanked at a squared table by Kurenai Yuhi, Shino Aburame, and Baby Mirai. Well, more like _toddler_ Mirai; she was growing quickly as the years passed, already nearing or past four years old. The child had graduated out of a full high-chair and into a regular seat with a large booster mounted upon it since Hinata had last seen her.

"Oh...Kiba, Shino, and Kurenai-sensei," Hinata started, turning on her heel and heading toward them. She was on auto-pilot; whenever she was beckoned someplace, she had always felt a hidden urge to just go with it. Most especially when it came to her team, people whom she had known and been comfortable with for half of her life. She trusted them more than any others—sometimes she would share secrets with them that even her _family_ hadn't known. Right as Hinata seemed likely to acquiesce and accidentally seat herself amidst the agonizing conversations of others, Hanabi put herself in front of her sister and put on an official look toward the table, keeping her slender chin up and her shoulders spread.

"I'm sorry, folks, but _Lady Hinata_ and I have a very private matter we need to discuss!" Hanabi sounded like she could have been a hostess, herself; her windpipe was working well as she fought to be heard over the increasing racket. She had been listening to the surrounding talk already, and Hinata's fears were rational—the chatter was quite focused on the high-profile wedding from the night before.

"The wedding was phenomenal," one person said off-hand. "Did you see how gorgeous the bride looked?"

"I did, I did! What a lucky woman, that one! Do you think she's the luckiest in the _world_?"

"Oh, without a doubt!"

And so on. After Hanabi's bizarre declaration, Kiba looked perplexed, and Shino looked—well, even in the fancy dining establishment, he was wearing his full hood and shades, so it was hard to say _how_ Shino looked. Kurenei narrowed her eyes, gazing upon Hinata as if to see whether or not something was wrong, and she swiftly noted that something _certainly_ was. "Hinata dear, are you alright?" Kurenai asked soothingly, her eyes a rich red with two distinct shades each separated from one another clearly by a darker ring. The gaze was quite beautiful and unique, though Mirai had inherited the very same eyes from her lovely mother, making them only _mostly_ unique.

Hinata drifted off in thought for a moment, studying her teacher's eyes as Hanabi continued to try to run interference. _Could they be the eyes from my dream? Maybe I_ _ **should**_ _sit out here with her...but no, maybe not. I don't_ _ **feel**_ _quite right._ "Y-yes, Kurenai-sensei, I'm just fine...thank you for the invitation, but Hanabi is right. We need to have privacy for this discussion." Hinata gave a bow of her head and turned quickly away to hide her uncomfortable blush. Every inch of her was nerves, and her ears kept picking up on painful stings about Naruto and Sakura. The wedding wasn't the _only_ thing being discussed that day, but in a multi-level room with hundreds of guests, it was a common enough topic that it was all Hinata _seemed_ to hear about.

Kiba stood up and put his hand firmly down on the table. "You've gotta _talk to us_ , sometime, Hinata! We're still your team, but we haven't hardly seen you in _months!_ "

"Kiba, calm down," Kurenai muttered, laying her hand on the rowdy shoulder of her student and urging him to fall into his seat again.

Hinata gasped slightly when Kiba called her out, and she felt the guilt creeping in. She _had_ been largely ignoring everybody she knew, and the depths of her isolation were only just then starting to take hold in her psyche. How long had it been since she actually took the time to relax with her friends? One month? Two? The wedding was only one night prior, but the problem had been going on since long before that. Hinata's head was swimming, and if Hanabi hadn't assertively started to guide her by the shoulders into the opened side-room, she might have stood out in the public eye for an hour just trying to put the pieces of her ruined self back together before fainting onto the floor.

Suddenly, the thick sliding door was pulled shut behind the siblings, and there was silence. Sweet, merciful silence. The only thing to be heard was quiet breathing, along with the subtle hum of the overhead lighting that ensured the small room was comfortably illuminated. "What happened there, Hinata? You feeling okay?" Hanabi asked, reaching a worried hand up to press to her sister's forehead and check for a fever. "I know you're in a bad mood, but that was...scary." She was whispering, then; shaken a bit more than she had expected to be. "It's like you're _empty_."

Hinata brought one hand up to touch the side of her own cheek. It still felt weirdly itchy, and rubbing along the surface did nothing to appease her. "I think I'm fine," the older Hyuuga said uncertainly. Too many odd things had been happening to her that day, from her dream to the itch to the way she suddenly froze at the behest of her almost-forgotten teammates. "I'd like to sit down, though..." she continued, stumbling clumsily toward the closest of two chairs that flanked a smooth, rounded table which was carved out of apple wood.

Hanabi tugged the chair out from under the table and held it in place while Hinata climbed into it. The elder sister was panting lightly as if the entire trip had been a true struggle...but things were quiet again, and she was catching her breath. Hanabi hummed, moving into the next chair, sitting down upon its seat and scooting herself into place. "Sorry if this is too hard for you right now," Hanabi confessed, perhaps having underestimated the state of things. "I guess I shouldn't have dragged you out here like I did..."

Hinata's hand reached out and clasped Hanabi's, and she gave out a soft smile that was almost a real one— _almost_. "You're just trying to help...I know you mean well..." She couldn't just say _'oh, it's fine that I'm here. I'll be okay, after all.'_ She wanted to reassure her sister, who looked rather guilty about the whole thing, but she just couldn't find the words. Hinata wasn't even certain that she _would_ be okay. When had she become such a petty thing as to resent her friends over a truly happy union? Why couldn't she just shed the weight of jealousy and make everything fine again? Naruto was her inspiration; _he_ wouldn't have liked seeing her so beaten up about something she had no real control over. _It's not your fault,_ he probably would have said... _It's just that I love Sakura more than I could ever have loved_ _ **you**_ _._ Hinata cut her thoughts short, surprised to hear Naruto's voice sounding so cruel in her own head.

Hanabi was tapping her fingers on the table awkwardly by the time the waiter returned with two glasses of lemon tea; Hanabi must have ordered them while Hinata was overwhelmed by her own senses. "Thank you," the younger one said, taking both glasses and laying them out on the table where they belonged. Next, she was handed two menus, one of which was extended toward Hinata, who took it sheepishly. "Take your time, sis," Hanabi said softly. "Pick something you _really_ want. When _I'm_ in a bad mood, I like to eat something _bad for me_. That usually helps."

Hinata was too busy trying to steady her heartbeat to give any kind of reply. She was never exactly a _people person_ , but she had also never felt so stifled by the presence of others before...and they were still out there, unknowingly making the lonely young woman feel cramped and cornered. The sliding wood door was soundproof, but from time to time the waiter did open it up, and whenever that happened there were snippets of conversation that reached through the cracks.

Hinata heard somebody say: "They were obviously _destined_ to be together; they're a perfect couple!" After that, as the door was closed and she was 'alone' with Hanabi again, Hinata took a long, needy slurp of her tea and then opened the menu straight to the dessert section. Things couldn't possibly get any _worse_ , so she thought she might as well have taken her sister's advice. She studied the menu to find something _supremely_ unhealthy to gorge herself on.

* * *

"What's up, Sasuke? Have you come to confess your love for me?" Ino Yamanaka purred with a wry smile on her face, her elbows leaned on the counter top. Her hands were holding each of her cheeks to help her look as smug as she ever could have. The whole room smelled like flowers, and Ino looked pretty enough to be one of the blooms...and she _knew_ it, too.

As usual, Sasuke's face was flat and unimpressed. "I'm here to make a delivery, that's all."

"Deliveries go around back," Ino said with a sigh, pointing her thumb over her shoulder. "And since when were you a delivery boy?"

"Long story, but I'd like to give this to you in person." As he selected the envelope with the Yamanaka symbol emblazoned upon it, Ino looked anxious. Perhaps she thought that he actually _was_ going to confess his love with a letter, because when she accepted it with greedy hands, she was deflated by disappointment upon seeing the Hokage's own wax seal across the envelope's back.

"...Oh. Well, thank you, I guess," the girl with the long blonde ponytail murmured with unfulfilled anticipation. "So, how are you holding up these days, Sasuke? It's been years since I saw you last." Sasuke didn't answer, because he didn't want to wrap himself in more small talk. He started to leave, but Ino's voice cut through his isolation and demanded that he stayed: "Sorry about Sakura," she said with genuine concern. "I know it's hard on you."

Sasuke turned at his waist and faced Ino with a stern brow. "What makes you say that?" he asked pointedly. He gave himself more credit than he deserved when it came to keeping his feelings hidden away. He quite frankly looked like a burglar who had been caught in the act and then had a dagger pressed against his neck by his supposed victim. He was at Ino's mercy, and there was nothing he could do about it.

"Because you're _here_ , Sasuke." Ino turned herself around, letting her heaps of hair drape down her back and shoulders while she looked toward the back wall of the flower shop her family had been running for generations—rebuilt since the Leaf's destruction, but almost the same as ever. There were dozens of vases and hundreds of individual flower samples strewn across that rear wall, and she was looking at a bright pink one in particular. "I see a lot of people come through this place who are either _in_ love, or trying desperately to _salvage_ their love."

"I'm only here to make sure that your clan gets that message," Sasuke said in his own defense, and it was true; he hadn't even been thinking of love when he walked through the door. He had just been looking for somebody who wouldn't have a bone to pick with him when he arrived, and Ino had always been one of the girls who favored him highly.

"Sakura told me about the promise you made before she left," Ino said with a sly grin, her tone like a cat's meow. "Two weeks around the same people? That's a long time for a guy who's been off on his own for so long." Ino took a deep breath, sounding like she pitied her visitor when she spoke again. "You know you aren't going to be able to win her back, right? She's really deep with Naruto, get it? He comes through here every weekend and buys Sakura a dozen of these whenever they're in stock," she nodded her head up toward the sampled pink flower she had been looking at, a peony that was ruffled and fragrant.

"Isn't that a bit cliché?" Sasuke hummed, noting the obvious logic for the chosen flower, the most typical reason being that its color matched Sakura's hair.

"Girls _love_ cliché, Sasuke; we want a guy who notices the things we like, sees the things we _are_ , and reminds us that he's been paying attention. We want somebody who knows everything there is to know, and _loves_ every single thing about us—good or bad." Ino tilted her head toward an image mounted upon the wall by a string and a nail. It was a stretched-open scroll that depicted something abstract in black paint. Sasuke briefly noted that the art style was familiar. "And I've gotta say, when it comes to attention to detail, there's no man better than a genuine _artist_."

Sasuke could have probably listened to Ino gush about love and art all day if he let her keep going, but he didn't _want_ to. He was certainly patient enough, but not willing to _exercise_ that much patience. Especially since he was still hungry. Just as he was about to quietly slip out again, there was a sudden thought that blew through his mind. He went out on a limb for the sake of curiosity. "You know a lot about love, isn't that what you said?"

Ino turned around to face him again, elbows falling back onto the counter as her head gave a nod. She tensed somewhat, almost feeling like she was hearing something forbidden coming out of Sasuke's mouth. She had never once known him to talk openly about love, and she thought that maybe she was going to get something precious to gossip about. "I know _everything_ about love," she replied, not even trying to hide her self-assurance. "I _do_ work in a flower shop—and we're all _about_ love."

"You and Sakura, when you were kids...you used to compete with each other over me." Sasuke remained measured and calm, though he didn't feel _right_ when he brought up the subject. He had never openly talked about such things before—not with _anybody_. He really _was_ trying to integrate himself back into the village, no matter the doors he had to uncomfortably open or the subjects he had to address. "Didn't you ever notice that I wasn't even _watching_ either of you?"

Ino scoffed, waving her hand dismissively. "Love isn't about being _seen_ , it's about coming to grips with your _own_ feelings. Sakura and I had our rivalry because we both had feelings for you...and it didn't matter if you noticed or not, because we had to prove to _each other_ who cared about you more. Besides, if you really weren't watching, how did you even _know_ about it?"

Rather than admit to having noticed long ago, Sasuke opted to answer vaguely. "Mm, well...I suppose the competition turned out to be a tie?" He mused, taking a moment to scan the flowers along the walls and shelves. He recognized one of them; its five petals were a rich purple, and its center was a spire of deep pink that curled into the same shape of five points as its surrounding leaves. He had been seeing small glimpses of that very flower in the back and front of his imagination ever since the night before, and a loose thought wormed its way into his mind. _Where did that girl go to?_

"Interested in buying some violets?" Ino asked with a saleswoman's pitch, deftly taking note of where her would-be customer's eyes had traveled. "Good choice," she continued, stepping out from behind the counter to stand at Sasuke's side. She was dressed in purple, herself, like always. Her midriff was open to the air and toned, but Sasuke didn't even glance at her. He was mesmerized by the flower pinned to the wall by its stem.

"No, that's not it," Sasuke whispered thoughtfully. "I've just been seeing this flower in my thoughts, lately. That's all."

Ino gave a pat to Sasuke's shoulder, smiling with encouragement. "That's good, Sasuke! Legend has it that when you dream about a violet, there's good fortune coming your way. Did you meet anybody _special_ recently?"

Sasuke furrowed his brow. He didn't believe in superstition, but maybe he should have—after all, he was technically the reincarnation of an ancient legend, himself. "No, nothing like that...I...well, _maybe..._ " He was voicing his thoughts out loud, and hadn't intended to drop that accidental hint to the inquiring mind beside him. In fact, he hadn't even realized he was going to say it. He was quiet after that, lost in thought as he retreated into his own mind to question his fragile sanity. _Couldn't be,_ he thought. _It was nothing._

"Oh, Sasuke!" Ino found a stool along the edge of the shop, pulling it over with a scrape across the floor. "Sit down, tell me all about her. I want every possible detail!" Ino was giddy; gossip _nothing_ , that line of talk had the potential to be pure _gold_.

Burdened with fresh thoughts and concerns, Sasuke took a step away from Ino to escape her enthusiastic offer. "I...I have more deliveries to make, Ino. Please show that message to the other members of your clan, and thank you for your time." He tore his sight away from the flower and looked toward the tile floor of the florist as he hastily made his exit. He heard Ino make an irritated _hmph_ , but he didn't spare her another glance.

He didn't think he had allowed the stray thoughts to trip him up too terribly much. Once he was outside, away from the sweet scent of fresh buds, he looked down to the map he had drawn his path upon. Next up on his list was the Akimichi clan, and even _Sasuke_ knew where to find them now. Not only were they famous for it, but there had been Akimichi Clan members at Naruto's wedding—Choza, Choji, and Choji's mother whose name Sasuke couldn't recall. They had been whispering amongst themselves about how Naruto and Sakura should have allowed them to cater from their restaurant instead of serving cheap ramen.

The clan's restaurant was on the map, and Sasuke decided that it would be the best place to go to make his next delivery. There were personal motivations for that decision, too: on top of his duty, he was growing more famished by the moment, and he had been wanting to try out some of the supposedly _exquisite_ food that was served there. Three of the assigned clans had been visited already, and he felt like he deserved a lunch break after the fourth one still to come.

* * *

Hanabi grumbled, her slender arms folded on the table behind her own empty plate. She had ordered cake, and so had Hinata, but while the younger one finished the decadent slice in record time, the elder was still staring at the first bite on her fork. "You've gotta _eat it_ if you want to taste it, sis," Hanabi said flatly.

Hinata did eventually slide the marbled, spongy dessert past her teeth, and she began to chew it. It was flavorful and rich, just the thing to take her mind briefly away from her sorrow. She had been very hungry, but somehow her appetite had faded once the plate was laid in front of her. Unfortunately, there had been cake at the wedding, too, and the frosting called to mind some unpleasant memories. She had been taking a bite of cake on the previous night when she had decided to abandon the party and cry herself to sleep. _Should've gone with ice cream,_ Hinata told herself as she set the fork down and folded her hands in her lap. "It's delicious," she said at last. "But I think I'm full."

"Okay, so that didn't work..." Hanabi said out of the side of her mouth, lips flattened. "Ah! Know what else cheers me up?" She leaned over the table to confess, her tiny hand covering her mouth as if to avoid being overheard. "When father's not around to see, I like to spy on people with my Byakugan..."

"Spy...? Hanabi, that's rude..." Hinata said meekly, rubbing her hands together in her lap.

"I don't mean like spy on them in the _shower_ or anything, I just like to look at what they're doing in public and have fun with it. It's just like sitting at the park and watching people, but _I_ can do it from further away..." Hanabi was holding up a defensive hand; even the mild retort from her sister was enough to make her feel a twinge of guilt. "Come on; teenaged girls are _supposed_ to talk about people behind their backs..."

"I'm not a teenager, Hanabi," Hinata said without fanfare.

"Yeah, well... _I_ am, and you're here with _me_ , so let yourself go for a bit. Have some _fun_!" Hanabi wasn't used to being the instigator; her father usually kept her training very strict and severe, but when she _did_ get the chance to act like a kid, she took it and ran with it. Being out there with Hinata was as therapeutic for Hanabi as it was for her depressed sister. They were helping each other out like good sisters should.

Hanabi turned on her Byakugan and started slow, peering out through the closed door of their private area to scan the larger chamber for people of interest. "Like... _that one_ ," she said, holding up a finger. "Third floor, second table on the right beside the staircase...he hasn't noticed that he doesn't have his _wallet_ , yet."

Hinata blushed, sinking her head down below her shoulders and staring at her sister with shame. "Hanabi, don't do that..."

"Or that one," Hanabi said, ignoring the protests and continuing to dig through the patrons. "He's got a bundle of flowers in his knapsack; do you think he's going to give them to his girlfriend, or his _mom_?"

Hinata was tempted—she turned on her Byakugan as well and began to scour the restaurant. Her vision included her teammates, who had all but forgotten about her already as they spoke betwixt each other about the weather, the village construction plans, and how big Mirai had been getting. Hinata could read lips reasonably well, and eventually she tracked down the man with the flowers whom Hanabi had been talking about. "They're pretty flowers," Hinata said under her breath. "Whoever gets them is probably going to feel loved..."

"Hey, want to go look at some flowers after this?" Hanabi asked, fishing for more ways to cheer her sister up. She couldn't think of anything good on her own, so she took to using Hinata's own words as ideas. "We could stop by the Yamanaka's shop, or just go find a big open field and roll around in it for a while..."

Hinata had something else in mind, but liked the idea at its roots. "We _should_ go get some flowers...it's been a while since I last visited him."

Hanabi softened, her Byakugan eyes losing their tension and falling back into plain white circles. "Oh...yeah, maybe you're right. Do you think talking with him might help you out?"

Hinata nodded. "It always does. I guess I had forgotten that he'll always be there for me when I need him."

Hanabi smiled softly, pushing herself away from the table and standing up from her chair. "We should go right away, then. He probably misses you."

"Yes, let's go..." Hinata agreed, brushing herself off with her hands and taking it upon herself to reach the sliding door. She was placing her hand on the carved slot meant to serve as a handle, and she pulled it open gradually. She had her Byakugan turned on as a safety net—she didn't want to walk out at a bad time. Unluckily, her timing was just a little bit poor, or so it seemed; with a startled _eep_ and a quick retreat, Hinata closed the door and turned her back to press against it, looking over at Hanabi with a tremble on her lip. "Let's...let's wait just a minute..."

Hanabi reeled backward from her sister's sudden spurt of liveliness, then tilted her head. Curious, she turned her Byakugan outward to examine the space beyond the door, and she didn't see anything that was especially amiss. "What's wrong, Hinata? Nobody's even looking this way right now..."

Hinata shook her head. "It's nothing, just...let's wait."

Hanabi wasn't accepting that answer, and she started to scan a bit more closely. She saw the person whom she figured was the reason for the discomfort. "Oh, it's _him_ ," she hummed. "What do you suppose a guy like Sasuke Uchiha is even _doing_ here? Shouldn't he be out eating babies or something?"

Hinata scowled at her younger sister, feeling suddenly protective. "No, he's not that kind of person..."

"What, you mean you've talked to him?" Hanabi apparently hadn't been told about Ko's discovery the night before.

"Y-yes," Hinata whispered, following her sister's lead and looking through the wall. She put her focus on Sasuke and tried to figure out why she was suddenly so nervous because of his presence. She hadn't really been nervous the night before, had she? She might have been _cautious_ due to his reputation, but everything he said and did was perfectly kind and gentle. Hinata couldn't see the monster that she had been told about—only a man who had made mistakes and wanted to put the past in the past. "He's not like people say he is..."

Hanabi shrugged her shoulders, "Whatever you say...but if that's true, then why are you hiding from him?"

"I'm not _hiding_ , I just..." Hinata bit her inner lip as she thought of a better way to say it. "I don't want him to _see_ me..."

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure they call that _hiding_ ," Hanabi rolled her eyes. "Why don't you want him to see you?"

Hinata brushed her hand down the side of her cheek. "I don't know...I just don't think I'm ready, yet."

"Then let's just go quickly. It's a crowded restaurant; if we just walk out he's not going to notice you." Hanabi pushed past Hinata and opened the door to put her plan into motion, walking out and leaving her sister with a crucial choice: either wallow by herself or follow by necessity. Tough love. Hinata hesitated for a moment, but she followed because she didn't want to be alone. All along she was watching Sasuke within the radius of her vision. He was being led away by a server, and was facing the opposite direction.

 _Don't see me, don't see me, don't see me..._ Hinata repeated to herself, trying to become invisible as she walked hastily out. The bill for the meal had already been added to an account in the Hyuuga name, so there was no need to stop on the way out to pay—the fancily decorated, lavishly heated, and friendly restaurant was left behind in a blur, and before Hinata knew it she was outside on her knees and breathing heavily again.

"Seriously? I thought this was about _Naruto_. Is everybody in the village going to set you off today?" Hanabi sighed, relenting from her annoyance. She had taken on a bigger task than she realized. _I don't know why I thought this would be easy...stupid me._ Hanabi was reaching her hand down and tucking it under Hinata's shoulder to help her stand. "Anyway, let's go; we shouldn't keep him waiting any longer." Hinata nodded quietly to her sister's urging, allowing herself to be picked up and guided along once more.

* * *

Sasuke hadn't been paying attention to any of the people inside the eatery, but somehow he still knew that Hinata had been looking at him. By the time he turned to see the source of the disembodied vision, he could only catch the faintest glimpse of the culprit's deep blue locks as the entrance door was closed behind her. _She looked like she was in a hurry,_ he thought idly as he was brought to a small table with a single chair in the corner. He took a seat and accepted a menu from his server, but he couldn't read any of the entries when he tried. He was too distracted by Ino's earlier words, which were then compounded with the brief flash of blue-and-lavender he had seen near the entrance; combined, they created a dilemma. _'Did you meet anybody_ _ **special**_ _recently?'_ All of the words on the open menu looked to him like different kinds of flowers, and the smell of food was more like the aroma of a violet. Genjutsu? No, it couldn't have been—he wasn't susceptible to that sort of technique without _knowing_ he was under it.

He tried to shake himself back into reality, but he kept seeing the same images in his head. His subconscious fascination with that particular flower was starting to develop into a true _distraction_. When the waiter returned later with a complementary glass of water, Sasuke took a drink from it and then abruptly stood up. He closed his menu and then fetched the message designated for the Akimichi Clan from his sack. "I've changed my mind...I'm not as hungry as I thought I was." Sasuke didn't know why he had said that, because he was _definitely_ hungry. He only hoped that his stomach wouldn't growl and give him away before he could finish his polite refusal. "As a matter of fact, I'm here on business—could you see to it that Choza Akimichi receives this message? I trust you to fulfill your duty as a member of his clan." Sasuke passed off the envelope.

The server took it and gave a nod. "Sure thing! And if you decide to get hungry _later_ , we're open until midnight, so don't hesitate to come on back!" The larger male gave his stomach a slap, emphasizing his bubbly gut. "I've eaten our food every night for three years and I'm _still_ not tired of it!" Friendly and forthcoming, traits the Akimichi Clan had always been famous for.

Sasuke nodded to his deputy-deliveryboy and then turned to depart. "I might be back sooner than you think," he said honestly as he left a small tip on the table to make up for taking a seat in the crowded place. His hunger was still there, but it had been replaced by a sensation that was much more important. As he left the restaurant several minutes after his target, he gave himself a mission in his own head: _I need to find Hinata Hyuuga...and when I do, I need to find out what she_ _ **did**_ _to me last night..._

* * *

 **Hope you liked it! If you did (or didn't), let me know. I take any and all feedback into account! The next update is coming soon.**


	8. Are you hungry?

**Just another word of thanks to all of you who have been supporting this story! I continue to be _amazed_ by the kind words and messages I have gotten every day since I've started this story. Please enjoy the chapter!**

* * *

A handful of hours had passed, and Hinata stood before the grave with a single sunflower pinched between her fingers. She had been there for a long time already, and Hanabi had already said what she wanted to say to Neji and had been given 'permission' to head home. _Father doesn't know you're gone; he'll want to start today's training soon,_ Hinata had said to her younger sister with a faux smile. Hinata had appreciated her sister's effort, but she still felt weakened at the end of the difficult day. The breeze of the waning afternoon was gentle and played with her neatly-brushed hair as it passed her shoulders. She twirled her large-faced yellow flower from left to right, slowly crouching down to slide the stem into one of the bamboo cups built into the corners of the headstone.

"I just don't know what to do anymore, brother Neji," Hinata said to confide in her lost relative. His absence had been felt in the family for years; his sacrifice was truly the only reason that Hinata was even still _alive_. She thought back to the day of his death; it was the final day of the war that had unofficially begun with the Kyuubi's attack upon the village on the day of Naruto's birth. "When I lost you, I felt like Naruto was the only rock I had left to stand on..." Hinata was hugging her shins and resting her head on her knees, her eyes half-closed as the beheld the reality of her cousin's grave. "But now he's devoted to somebody else, and I feel myself sinking again." She had _accepted_ his death long ago, but she had never actually forgiven herself for surviving in his stead. "If you were still here, I know you would be stronger than me. I wonder sometimes, brother Neji—do you regret giving your life for mine?"

She was trying not to cry again, but it was hard to hold back. _You're the strongest person I know,_ Neji said to Hinata inside her imagination. He wasn't cruel or backhanded to her, even though his present words were an invention of her psyche. _You are going to move forward, and you will become a better person than ever before._ Hinata smiled, soothed by her own pictured thoughts. When she had thought of Naruto earlier in the day, his speech had sounded blunt and dismissive, but she had already chastised herself for allowing such an attitude to seep in. She had been starting to feel a certain amount of resentment toward her long-time love; rather unfairly, she had felt forsaken by his choice. Somewhere in her head, she understood that he had never _actually_ forsaken her.

 _He invited me to the wedding,_ she thought as she looked upon Neji's grave. There was a single bead of wetness pooling on the lower corner of her left eye. _He came over to our reception table to personally thank me for coming..._ She gulped for her own sake; the cemetery was empty, other than herself. _He was so warm and friendly, like nothing had changed. He doesn't hate me—really, I know that he_ _ **does**_ _think I'm special. A special friend, a person he can always count on. When he and Sakura get into an argument someday, he'll probably come to me for advice...and then I can finally be the one who lends him the strength_ _ **he**_ _needs, just like he has always done for me._ She smiled to herself at the thought. Maybe things weren't so bad.

"What do you think their first fight as a married couple will be about?" Hinata asked to the memorial before her. She was rubbing her soft, pale fingers across the petals of the sunflower as it rested in water. The day was coming nearer to an end; she had been there longer than she had planned, but she had no intention of leaving, still. "Will they argue about money? Or will it be something silly, like Sakura wanting to eat someplace other than Ichiraku's? " Hinata took in the scent of the spring; flowers and dew filled the air, and life was flourishing all around her in the grass, trees, and sky. "They're deeply in love; they'll surely forgive each other quickly, but everybody fights with the person they love _sometimes_. Right, Neji?"

Hinata thought back to her match with Neji during the Chunin Exams. He had hated her, then—he was _cruel_ , then. He wanted her to suffer, to bleed, to break, to _die_. Even so, when she thought of him at his grave she was never thinking about the anger or the hatred. She could only see the soft smile upon his face, the tender touch of his hand on her shoulder after a long session of sparring. With Hanabi taken under their father's official tutelage, Neji had graciously offered to train Hinata to keep her strong. Every day, the two of them grew closer together, and became stronger alongside one another.

Her training had been neglected since Neji was lost. Ko had offered to take her late cousin's place, but—without meaning to sound rude—Hinata knew that he was no replacement at all. Ko was kind and loving, that was true, but he wasn't nearly as _strong_ as Neji. Hinata herself knew that she had very little to learn from anybody else in the clan; she had reached a plateau within the Hyuuga unless she had begged for her father's attention again. With the end of the war and the encroaching aura of peace upon the world, Hinata allowed herself to fall slack in her physical and mental training because it didn't seem important. _Is that why I'm taking this so hard?_ She wondered to herself. "I think I've gotten weak without you, brother Neji. Can you please tell me what I should do?" She dropped her hand from the flower to the flat stone, running her fingers along the engraved letters that spelled his name. She plucked away a flake of debris, an errant twig which had been carried onto the lettering by the wind.

She felt another tear fall down her cheek, the heaviness of her thoughts forcing the salty trickle out to follow a path over her face. It crossed the itching, near-burning sensation that had been bothering her beneath the skin of her cheek since that morning. The presence of the liquid somewhat soothed the feeling, but she still didn't know why it was there in the first place. Maybe she had passed through a shrub of poison oak on her way to privacy the night before, but there was no redness. She brought her hand up to rub at the tear, wiping it away and sniffling. She covered her face with her hands and let another droplet fall into her palm.

Although Hinata never heard or even _felt_ the presence of anybody else, she was taken by complete surprise when a calming murmur opened up from a few paces behind her:

"I thought you told me that you weren't going to start crying again..."

* * *

"You think Sasuke's in _love_? Seriously?" Shikamaru blurted out in shock as Ino told him about whom she had spoken to that day. Not only had she spoken to him, but she had apparently gotten a certain _vibe_ from him that she was getting entirely too detailed about. "He was just at my house a few hours ago...He didn't seem any different from the usual glum and serious guy he's always been." The Nara Clan's most recognizable face was trying to deflect the conversation, but Ino was adamant.

"Tsk, Shikamaru, you weren't looking in the right _places_." Ino held her hand out like a know-it-all, waving her fingers around and rolling her wrist in circles. "It was all in his eyes, and the way he kept looking at the violet on the wall. He's definitely infatuated with _somebody_."

Shikamaru tch'd and looked to the violet for the sake of humoring his long-time teammate. He was at the shop to pick up his own order of flowers; he had been begrudgingly lost in the busy process of maintaining a relationship of his own, in recent months. He had been taking Ino's advice on the matter, for better or worse, and she had suggested that he purchased a bundle of desert lilies for his interest. _Just_ _because she lives in a desert, I guess?_ He may have been skeptical about Ino's methods, but he definitely wasn't going to try to ask his _mother_ for any advice on love, so the blonde flower girl was his next best shot. Shikamaru avoided eye contact with Ino, knowing that his next question was going to be taken with some defensiveness: "Still, are you sure it's _you_ that he's thinking about? Seems kinda farfetched..."

Ino looked as offended as expected, her arms folded on her chest and her cheeks inflated as if to hold back a snarl. "Of _course_ I'm sure...why else would he be thinking about purple flowers?" She gestured to her two-piece outfit, the deep violet tone of her top and skirt matching the petals on the wall almost perfectly. "He's finally come back after all this time to confess his undying love for me!" Ino clasped her hands together and brought her wrist up to rub against her cheek.

Shikamaru rolled his eyes but didn't let her see it. "Aren't you involved with Sai now, anyway?" he pointed out, a finger nudged toward the painting on the wall. The style was unmistakeable, all black and white with thick lines and traditional curves.

Ino gave a mischievous nod. "Exactly! I can finally _crush_ Sasuke's hopes and dreams like he always used to crush _mine!_ It'll be so sweet to watch him pine for me, begging me to reconsider. He'll walk in here, ask to buy a dozen violets all wrapped in a bundle with a purple ribbon. I'll ask him, 'why Sasuke, whoever might they be for?' I'll bat my eyelashes and play coy, maybe a blush and a giggle, really _sell_ it...And he'll say 'for _you_ , my delicate bloom; I have been yearning for you since the day we met! Please, my heart and soul, accept this gift and become mine!'" Ino began to wring her hands together, her evil plan coming to fruition in her mind's eye. "But I'll turn away from him and refuse. 'Sasuke you're too _late_ , I'm promised to another!' And then I'll flash the gorgeous ring that Sai is probably going to give me by then, and Sasuke will cry over his missed chance. He'll beg and plead and promise!" Ino got a stern look in her eyes. "It won't do him any good, though. He could have had me in the past, but no more!" She wagged her pointer finger, but then she bit the back of her knuckle in thought. "Oh, but do you think they'll _fight_ over me?"

Shikamaru was dumbfounded. He didn't want to interrupt the fantastical story, but as it got more delusional he began to wish he had been more assertive to begin with. By the time Ino was laughing to herself with her hand over her mouth, her customer was twitching at the brow. "That...that sounds like something you've been thinking about for a long time."

Ino smirked and replied from behind the counter. She was busily wrapping Shikamaru's order in a paper roll, covering it with transparent plastic and tying it all shut as she continued her fantasy. "Well of course I've thought about it. Sasuke's been in love with me since we were kids, even though he always _pretended_ to like Sakura better, to spare her feelings. But now that she's married to Naruto, Sasuke can finally confess to who he has _really_ wanted all this time. I give him a month, maybe two, before he comes in here to make his move on me."

Shikamaru set down a few paper bills on the table, resorting to a smile and nod. His eyes expressed doubts. "When he does, let me know." Ino took the money from him and made change, then offered the flowers and a receipt to her guest. As he accepted the small bouquet, Shikamaru got to thinking about Sasuke, and then remembered why the Uchiha had been roaming the streets in the first place. "Hey, if he was here, does that mean he brought one of those registration forms to your clan, too?"

Ino gave a nod as she shut the register and put away her wrapping supplies. "Yeah, something about a fighting tournament coming up. Are you going to enter?"

Shikamaru shook his head. "Doubt it; sounds like a lot of work, and I'm not really interested in proving anything to anybody. What about you?"

Ino put her pointer finger into a dimple on her cheek, smiling sweetly. "Of course! I'm going to wear the logo of our flower shop on my clothes to drum up business from the visiting members of other villages! With luck, the Yamanaka Clan's unique floral talents can finally branch out, and we can become a household name in _other_ nations, too!"

Shikamaru huffed some air through his nose, amused. "Is that going to be before, or _after_ Sasuke makes his love confession?"

Ino giggled, waving her hand as if to dismiss the notion. "You're silly, Shikamaru. Ofcourse it will be _after_."

* * *

Sasuke had seen her huddled down in front of the grave for nearly an hour before he decided to approach. He had wanted to give her some space, but for every moment he looked upon her, he was pulled a bit more strongly in her direction by some ethereal force of gravity. It was inexplicable, the way she inadvertently beckoned him closer with the falling of her tears and the muffled noise of sniffling. Though she was crying all the same, her sorrow somehow felt _different_ to Sasuke, that time. The night beforehand, he had wanted to approach her to share in her misery and find some escape from _his_ personal troubles. It was the following evening, and as the sun was beginning to draw downward, Hinata was barely held together by a thread. Sasuke didn't care about his _own_ difficulties anymore.

He got close, but she didn't notice. He was standing behind her and looking down, his sandaled feet in the grass and making no sound as he stepped nearer. Feeling a sense of deja vu, Sasuke didn't want to frighten her. He summoned up the same voice he had used the last time, and he hoped to invoke an immediate recognition by calling back to their previous meeting: "I thought you told me that you weren't going to start crying again," he thoughtfully whispered.

Hinata froze; it was a familiar response, but then she softened right away and pulled her hands down from her face. She turned to look at Sasuke from her seat on the grass, but then she stood up as if to carry her sense of pride. She looked just _barely_ more resolute than she had at the reception. It was minor, but she _had_ improved. She spoke without choking on any of her words. "That was yesterday, but today's new. That means I get a fresh start to decide how things are going to go all over again..."

Sasuke smirked playfully. "So you _chose_ to cry?"

Hinata gave a hesitant nod, turning to regard Neji's grave. "I miss him, still..." She was telling the truth, but not the _entire_ truth. She did miss Neji, and thoughts of him _did_ bring tears to her eyes, but the real cause was much more closely linked to the wedding than to her cousin. She was in partial denial, however, even seeming to believe her own explanation. "I can't help but cry when I come here."

Sasuke hadn't been present for Neji's death, and he hadn't made a point of asking about it before. He knew of countless people whose lives were lost in the war, but he didn't take on the responsibility of knowing every name and cause of death. He may have had a partial hand in getting the battle going, but he placed the blame for the lost lives solely on his misguided clan-mates. Seeing how Hinata had been affected, Sasuke felt guilty for not devoting more time to learning about the losses, especially in _this_ case. He decided that he couldn't go on pretending that he understood without actually being told. "How did he die...?"

True to form, Hinata didn't seem offended by the question. She felt the regret upon her face as it weighed her mouth into a frown, the speech coming out with difficulty when she said the words that had held her down for years. "He died while saving _me_ from the Juubi...I had put myself in front of Naruto to take its attack by myself, but in a flash, Neji gave his life for _both_ of us...I would be gone if not for his sacrifice." She half-looked to Sasuke with her head tucked down, hiding her eyes beneath the fallen bangs of her hair. "Do you think Neji made the right choice?"

Sasuke wasn't ready for such a question. He had approached her as a potential confidant without really grasping what that actually _meant_. As practiced, he kept his face calm and his body relaxed. Within the firestorm of his mind, though, he desperately sought an answer to give. If he said _'yes'_ without really meaning it, she probably would have been further saddened because of the insincerity. But also, if he spoke practically and said _'maybe the village would be stronger with him instead of you,'_ he knew that it would have ended _much_ more poorly. He was torn between maintaining his stoic facade and voicing what he truly wanted to say. His emotions were constantly fighting to be heard, but he most often refused to become a slave to their urges. In that single case, however, Sasuke opted to go with his sympathies: "He made the choice that _he_ thought was right. He gave himself up for the sake of a person whom he loved more than _anything_. He didn't care what it meant for him, so long as his precious family continued to survive...and if there had been _any_ other choice in his mind, he would probably have taken it. You're suffering because of his loss, but above all else he wanted you to _survive,_ so you need to do even better. Don't just live—live _happily_."

Hinata seemed to like that answer, despite how vague and noncommittal it was beneath the top layer. "You're right...he wouldn't have wanted me to spend all my days mourning him. I should be celebrating every _minute_ of the life he granted me..."

Sasuke saw that Hinata was sharp and self-sufficient; had she _really_ needed his help to cheer up, or was he getting involved where he didn't need to be? Needed or not, he was glad to be there in front of her again. Looking into her pale eyes, he could see depths that shouldn't have existed. She was trying to hide behind her deep blue bangs, and he knew it; he could see the way she intentionally tilted and leaned her head to sway the locks into place in front of her face. Still, he could see through the tiny slivers to look upon the soul beneath. "It's good to see you again so soon, Hinata," Sasuke said genuinely, after a momentary lull. He hadn't _planned_ on saying it, but when his mouth opened and the words rolled out, he thought they were good, so he didn't stop them.

"You too, Sasuke," Hinata said in the same way, half-surprising herself with how easily she had spoken. Beyond her gratitude, there were ponderous thoughts. "But...what brought you out this way?"

 _You,_ Sasuke had thought about saying, but knew that it might have been too blunt. He wasn't even sure, himself, why he was so compelled to track her down. He had spent quite some time looking for her before the thought had occurred to him that she might have been at the graves. He had come for her, but what did he intend to do when he _got_ to her? He had to think of something, and a convenient excuse was already in his pack. "Actually, I've been looking for a member of the Hyuuga Clan to give this to," he rushed his words, retrieving his official business and offering the envelope toward Hinata.

She looked disappointed by the simplicity of his explanation—Sasuke wasn't prepared for _that_ , either. She took the envelope and held it close to her chest, her fingers rubbing the paper with a fidgeting hesitation. "O-oh, I see. Thank you, Sasuke..." she mumbled, turning away to face the headstone. She must have expected him to leave upon the completion of his business, because she was starting to blush when he didn't vanish right away. "W-was there something else...?" she asked, the creases around her fingers growing out like webs as she squeezed the envelope more tightly. She was getting nervous again.

Sasuke liked seeing her that way, so shy and jittery. The thought hadn't occurred to him, yet, that she might have _always_ been like that. "Actually," Sasuke began as he narrowly established solid eye contact through the impeding blue tresses. His own pupils were dormant, coal-black and somewhat dull. "I saw you at the Akimichi restaurant earlier today—would you mind telling me what you ate, and what you thought of it? I've been thinking about trying the place out, myself, but I'd appreciate some decent recommendations before I do." Simple conversation, something easy to get her talking.

"You didn't eat while you were there?" Hinata was puzzled. She could swear that she saw him taking his seat and reading a menu as she was fleeing. "Why not?"

 _Whoops_. It worked once, so it would hopefully work again—"I wasn't as hungry as I thought I was," Sasuke claimed, but his stomach finally caught up with him with the _rudest_ of timing. It growled quietly but _audibly._ With unrivaled poise, Sasuke's neutral expression stayed intact. He was firmly standing behind his statement despite the physical evidence.

Hinata laughed through her nose and covered her mouth with her hand. "Your stomach disagrees with you..."

Sasuke would have blushed if he wasn't such a statue, but there were traces of his embarrassment in the way his whisper fell below its usual level. He wore a confident smirk even so. "Mm, you're right...now I _am_ hungry."

"You asked what I ate," Hinata recalled with her hand falling to join the other, folded together in front of her waist with the envelope clutched preciously. Her head finally tilted upward to allow her eyes to peek out from under her luxuriously cleaned hair. "I had a slice of marbled cake with chocolate icing, and it was delicious." She thought about the single bite she had taken; she felt rather silly in hindsight for leaving such a perfectly good dessert sitting unfinished on the table. "Very _filling_ ," she added, as if to apologize to her abandoned serving.

"So if you went back, would you order the same thing again?" Sasuke was practicing small-talk, something he had never been very good at. In the past, he would say only what needed to be said—Hinata was an easy 'test dummy,' since she seemed to be agreeable to just about any line of talk. He could have said little nothings to her for hours and learned quite a bit from it all if she allowed it.

Hinata nodded. "Yes, definitely the same thing." She even thought that she could _finish_ it if she tried again. Talking to Sasuke felt different from having the attention of others. She didn't know him very well, and it was precisely _because_ of that unfamiliarity that she felt comfortable talking to him about little things. Sasuke knew about her love for Naruto because she confessed to it, but he didn't press the subject, even so. She appreciated being treated like a _stranger_. There was no pressure, no obligation; Sasuke was just a man who had happened upon her. She wasn't expected to put on a brave front or to spill all of her secrets at once. It was refreshing to feel _unknown_. That was what she was telling herself, anyway.

Sasuke met her eyes with his and took a step closer, practically involuntary as he lifted a hand toward her. "Well, I'm hungry now...but what about you? Could you stand to eat again if I were to ask you to come with me?"

Hinata wanted to say yes right away, but it would have looked odd after she mentioned how filling her cake had been. A few hours had passed since she _supposedly_ ate, but even back then she didn't have much of an appetite. There was a change in her. In front of Sasuke, and especially beneath the comforting warmth of his dinner invitation, she suddenly felt like she could have eaten a two-ton boulder if it meant going with him. Rather than willingly make a fool of herself, she opted to decline on the grounds of being filled already—"Oh, no I couldn't _possibly_ eat," she began, just as planned. Before her next well-rehearsed line could flutter into the evening air, her own stomach growled as if to join in with Sasuke's. Unlike him, she _did_ blush, but she had already _been_ blushing, so her color was likened to that of a freshly-cut watermelon. "M-maybe just a _bite_ ," she amended, holding up her fingers and pinching her thumb to her pointer. The unnatural itch on her cheek was starting to lessen as she spent long minutes with the imposing almost-stranger. She had wanted to be alone, both that evening and the night before, but whenever Sasuke showed up that urge for solitude became quiet and retreated deeper into her mind.

Sasuke was starting to understand what had been happening to him. When his nose opened up to take in the air, he smelled the scent of a violet—was it some kind of perfume that Hinata was wearing, or was it just his subconscious' unique way of telling him something? It didn't matter, either way—what _did_ matter was that he was comfortable being near her. In some ways, he felt with her the same way that _she_ did with him—like a stranger. She wasn't judging him with her all-seeing eyes, nor did Sasuke have some kind of blackened personal history with her that he needed to correct. She took him exactly as he stood, and not as he had been _described_. He had long ago gotten used to traveling the world and going unrecognized, and being a random stranger was usually a calming experience all around because he wasn't being perpetually _noticed_. Hinata _did_ notice him, and she knew of him, but as Sasuke saw himself in the reflection of her pure eyes, he felt for the first time like he was truly being given a second chance. A clean slate. What his friends and family had been saying to him all along finally felt true.

He stared for a long time, lost in the pale reflection of her unblinking irises, wide and enveloping. For the second time, Sasuke thought of how peculiar it was that her Byakugan didn't disturb him in the same way that others of the same lineage sometimes made him feel. The emptiness was somehow _full_ in that girl's look, a look that was unlike any other. The pair kept their eyes locked together in silence for a natural length of time until the wind whipped up and blew a waft of pollen in between them. Hinata was the first one to flinch, her nose scrunching and tightening as she fought the tingle in her nose, but the sneeze surfaced and she pointed it into her sleeved upper arm.

Hinata hastily rubbed the base of her nose, turning away to escape the endless ocean of Sasuke's face. Had she gotten lost? Where _was_ she? Why did she feel so _pleasant_? She looked down upon Neji's grave and thanked him silently for being beside her in that moment of disbelief. She credited _him_ with giving her the strength to rise within herself, but she also knew that it wasn't entirely her late cousin's accomplishment. She turned to look back at Sasuke, leaning her confidence toward him and spreading her shoulders wide to hopefully look distinguished.

"Take care, Hinata," Sasuke hummed in response to her squeaking _achoo._ "Have you caught a cold?"

"No...actually, I'm fine." Hinata had uttered those last two little words dozens of times to numerous well-meaning parties since finding out about Naruto's engagement, but for the first time in two months, she actually _meant_ it. "I'd like to share a meal with you, Sasuke..." she continued on with less assurance. She had just sneezed like a fool in front of him and looked like a tomato in her nervousness. Had her behavior pushed him to change his mind? She had heard that Sasuke was difficult to please. Despite what she thought of him thus far, it wouldn't have surprised her if he were to have taken his invitation back to coincide with the rumors.

"That's great," Sasuke answered with tempered enthusiasm. Inwardly, he was thrilled by her acceptance, but naturally he kept the excitement withheld. He could see that Hinata still had the tremble of fear around her shoulders and knees, but maybe it wasn't fear of _him—_ or, at least, not the _kind_ of fear he had expected it to be. "Take your time and say farewell to your cousin, Hinata—the server told me earlier that the restaurant is open until midnight, so there are plenty of hours left to spare."

Hinata nodded, then daintily fell down to her knees, sitting on her heels in front of Neji's headstone. She was looking at the gray block that symbolized her closest friend and family member, and she ran her silky hand across the well-polished, slanted face. "You don't mind waiting a little longer, Sasuke?" Hinata felt like an inconvenience to others fairly often, but when Sasuke gave his answer, she felt a surge of reassurance.

"I've got nowhere else to be," he replied readily, and he sounded convincing. It wasn't _entirely_ true—he still had a few deliveries to make, but Kakashi hadn't actually given him an explicit time frame for when the simple mission needed to be finished. Sasuke quietly suspected that the whole routine was just a ploy by the Hokage to force the Uchiha heir to reintegrate with his old friends and classmates, anyway. The tournament was still _months_ away, at the very least, so there was likely no rush to finalize the roster. Sasuke expected to return to Kakashi on the next day with his mission completed, but for his troubles he suspected that he would only receive a look that said: _'mission? what mission?'_

Sasuke watched Hinata as she silently knelt in front of the grave, her hands clasped together like she was praying. He wordlessly lowered himself to sit with his legs crossed and his hand upon his right knee; he was facing the other direction to give her privacy. He closed his eyes and granted her the peace he thought she wanted, and he felt placid as a result. The turmoil was seeping out of his thoughts and not returning as he emptied himself of worry. He knew what it was like to find peace after the death of a loved one, but it took him a very long time to actually pursue it when it was his turn. To him, Itachi had been _dead_ since the massacre of his clan, and all that was left of the troubled prodigy was a shell meant to be put to rest. When Sasuke learned the truth, he was both devastated and furious...but then he met the spirit of his brother in a literal shell, a hollow being made of chakra and forbidden sacrifice.

 _No matter what you decide to do from now on...I will love you forever._ The final words of his beloved brother echoed in Sasuke's mind as he 'listened to' Hinata's silent conversation with Neji's spirit. He pictured the blackened sclera of his revived older brother as the cracked skin of Itachi's temporary body began to sparkle with light. Sasuke had watched with his own eyes as Itachi's soul departed into the next world with a peaceful smile upon his face. It was a memory that lived on as clear as day, one of the _very_ _few_ moments of proper happiness that the sole yet-surviving member of the Uchiha clan had ever experienced. He wondered if Hinata had been given such closure; had her cousin's final words been so soothing, or were his fading moments spent in agony? Sasuke hoped for the former, but feared the latter. Madara wasn't known for delivering quick, merciful deaths.

Hinata opened her eyes again and looked through the corner of her plain vision to behold Sasuke's still posture. He looked absolutely meditative, a stark contrast to the way she had always pictured him in his downtime. Based on the stories, based on how he fought, she had expected him to be wild and sporadic. Twitchy, even. But he defined a state of calm and he never left it. She was curious about him, so she closed her eyes—but she activated her Byakugan to peer out of her lids and pore over him without turning her head. She thought that he could probably tell that she was doing it, but he didn't make a comment so she allowed herself a moment to admire the perfect stillness. She peered beneath the outer layer of his black travel cloak, noting the clothing beneath that was lighter up top, bearing the Uchiha symbol proudly upon the back of the near-white shirt. The loose tunic held just the faintest hint of blue, or maybe purple; it was only apparent in certain lighting, though her Byakugan showed her its purest form. His pants and footwear matched his cloak's black, but were otherwise unremarkable.

The thing that surprised her the most was what she saw in his cloak's pocket while she looked beyond its layer. Nestled near Sasuke's heart was a placard with his name and clan emblem written delicately upon it. Hinata abruptly canceled the survey with her prying eyes, and as if on cue, Sasuke's own lids opened up and he turned his gaze upon the woman's nearest shoulder. "Is something the matter?" he asked, completely without any accusation in his tone.

She had been caught red-handed, but she didn't punish herself for it. Instead, she shook her head and pulled her eyes open to look upward into the sky. She had reactivated her extensive sight range as if to fumble around and pretend she had always been using it; maybe she could convince Sasuke (or herself) that she wasn't just staring intrusively at her quiet company. Had she already acquired Hanabi's bad habit of snooping? "Nothing's wrong," she assured him. Thankfully, she was given tranquil silence again. A short while afterward, she chose to speak up on her own: "The sunset is going to be beautiful tonight." She was watching it from miles away, eagerly awaiting its genuine arrival to the village.

The two were more than arm's length apart, both seated and facing near-opposite directions. Still, there was a tether that held them together. Sasuke was genuinely patient, and Hinata allowed several more minutes to pass as if she intended to test his sincerity. He hadn't spoken an intrusive word since he offered to give her all the time she needed, and the consideration was just another layer of warmth that Hinata felt coming from him. Had he always been like that? No, she had seen him in brief glimpses during the war—he was always calm, but there was a sharpness to him. He could cut the air around him, even in silence, but she didn't feel the ragged edge coming off of him. The breeze wrapped and twisted along, passing over Sasuke as if he were just a part of the wild grass. His hair even rustled in short curves exactly like the green blades beneath him.

Satisfied with Sasuke's patience, Hinata whispered a last farewell to Neji for the day, brushing off her knees when she stood up. Her pants had collected a bit of dirt, but it was easy to pat it away from the casual material she had chosen to wear. "I'm ready, Sasuke." There was confidence first, and then there was a meek follow-up: "Thank you for being so kind to me..."

Sasuke smirked, standing on his own and without making a sound until he was upright and facing Hinata. "You've been good to me, too, whether you know it or not. I was about to lose my _mind_ before I met you last night." Sasuke's hand was lowered to his waist and he brushed off his own cloak and pants. The admission came easily; he didn't think anything of it. He recognized at last that the moment of calm during the group photo was at least partially due to his brief respite with Hinata outside of the party. With the implications in mind, he returned to 'business': "Let's go...and please don't lose that envelope. It's meant for your entire clan to see."

Hinata clutched the envelope against her hip as she nodded to follow Sasuke. He was already walking, and she was already tagging along. She had already read some of the contents of the envelope while she was snooping, so she knew that it was important. She was struggling on the interior of her careful thoughts. _Should I enter the tournament? What if I'm too weak to make my family proud?_ She was already assuming that Hanabi and her father would enter, but maybe she was wrong. As she followed behind Sasuke and basked in the aura of his restrained power, she already understood just one thing for _certain_ about the enigmatic, serious man in front of her. Her thoughts rang clearly within her own head: _He has gotten a lot stronger since he left the village the last time..._

* * *

 **That's it for now! I had a wedding to attend on Saturday, so I didn't have _quite_ as much time to write this one as I have had on the others. I hope it was still good! Let me know what you think, because I love getting feedback of _all_ kinds!**


	9. Oddly Assertive

**Thanks once more for all of the fantastic feedback!**

* * *

Sasuke led the way into the restaurant. He had been quiet along the brief journey, and so had Hinata. They were both keeping to their own thoughts as the reality of their conversation was still sinking in. Sasuke, in particular, was wondering about his own motivations. He had acted without planning, which was a stunning rarity for the skilled tactician. His reasoning had boiled down to, 'I'm hungry, come eat with me,' but he had no _scheme_ for what would happen once she _was_ eating with him. What was his goal; the endgame? Was he honestly just bringing her along for the sake of having her _there_? He asked himself a dozen questions and couldn't properly answer a single one of them.

Sasuke opened the large front door of the Akimichi eatery and walked in without looking over his shoulder or holding the entrance open. He recognized the host from his last visit, and the host recognized _him_ , too—even without his Sharingan active, Sasuke was easy to identify by his features. The outstanding traits he had been born with were common in the Uchiha clan, but as the _final_ _member_ of said clan, he was quite difficult to mistake for anyone else.

"A table for one?" The large, jovial greeter asked kindly while pulling out a pen and a pad of paper. "Gohja will be glad to hear that you came back, Mr. Uchiha; he was worried that he might have scared you off!"

Sasuke assumed that Gohja was the name of his previous waiter, but he was more interested in what was said before: _Table for one?_ Sasuke's jaw tensed and his eyes leaned to his right, finding empty space there. The same to his left, and behind. Hinata was gone, but he was _positive_ that she had come up the stairs out front just as he had. He looked to the host and held up two fingers, head turned away while searching the comfortably large foyer chairs for his guest. "Actually, I'll need a table for... two..." She was nowhere inside, but she definitely hadn't sneaked far off without him noticing. Was she still on the other side of the door?

The greeter wrote down the number and added a name to his growing list, then he said something about a ten minute wait while Sasuke went out the door. He looked left and right again—and this time he saw Hinata on his left, practically flattened against the wall beside the door frame outside. Sasuke was confused, but he tried not to be too harsh. "Don't you know how to use a door?" he asked with a casual inflection, rocking the wooden panel back and forth along its hinges as if to demonstrate. She looked timid, and he wondered if she was still suspicious of his intentions. If she _had_ been, he knew that he would have been wrong to _blame_ her for it. Even so, he was hoping that there was another explanation.

"I don't want them to see me...I, uh..." Hinata started to rub her hands together, assuring herself with a self-touch gesture. She was skittish and self-conscious, shrinking closer to the outside corner. "I didn't actually _eat_ the cake I got before. I took a _bite_ , but I left the rest behind. I didn't really mean to _insult_ them, I just _couldn't_ eat it...Do you think they'll be upset? "

Sasuke breathed a sigh of relief inside the realm of his head, though the thought didn't translate to an actual motion of his lungs. He stood in typical stoic fashion and shook his head. "No, I don't think they'll be upset...now, please come inside with me, Hinata. I've already asked for a table."

Hinata looked at him skeptically, wondering if their plan was a good idea after all. She _hated_ to offend people, and when she had previously abandoned her slice of cake, the act was a blatant departure from her usual courtesy. She couldn't even _remember_ the last time she had left a bite on her plate; she was normally wary of upsetting whomever was feeding her, regardless of when or where. Hour by hour, Hinata was starting to let the severity of her depression sink into her thoughts. She was becoming a completely different person with every new decision she made, and she didn't _like_ the person she was turning into. She wanted the changes to _stop,_ so she sucked in a large breath and accepted Sasuke's request. He was the only person who had managed to make her feel like her old self in months, even if the feeling only lasted for a little while. "Yes...I'll come inside with you."

Sasuke's mouth turned up in a tiny smile, though his eyes were still dark and somber. "Don't worry so much about small things," he said to her as he held the door open. This time, he _watched_ her walk in...partially because he didn't want to look insane for having requested a table for two, only to return alone. Hinata was his living proof that he _needed_ what he asked for, and although it was a _small_ victory, her presence was indeed a victory. But _was_ it small? He could still smell the violets in his subconscious, even when he thought she was out of his reach. She had gone inside ahead of him and had taken a seat while Sasuke chose to remain standing. He stood with his shoulders laying against the red wall a few steps away from Hinata's chair.

"Why don't you sit?" Hinata asked him, her head canted innocently and her hands folded in her lap. She still had the envelope in her possession, taking her duty to her clan very seriously and never letting it out of her sight.

"I'll sit when our table is ready," Sasuke answered dryly. He thought it was a strange question, really; why did it matter if he chose to stand or sit? The pair were in a transitional period, just waiting to be moved someplace else; settling down was pointless, since he knew something longer-lasting was just over the next ridge.

"You could sit now, _and_ sit after the table is ready..." Hinata suggested, feeling a little bit silly for having said so. She knew that he wasn't stupid; she knew that he made his choice for one reason or another. Her curiosity made her feel like an immature kitten pawing at a ball of yarn that was too big for her to move, but she got the sense that there was a very deeply rooted reason for why he didn't sit. And there was also a reason why she _wanted_ him to sit, but she couldn't admit it yet.

Sasuke looked down to her, and the way his eyes were turned made him appear to be angry. "I _could_ ," he said to her flatly. "But for now, I'd rather stand."

"W-why?" Hinata asked delicately, her claws searching that mysterious ball of yarn for a loose strand, anything she could have _gripped;_ she wanted some way to start _unraveling_ it. She didn't get an answer out of him, other than another stern glance. She knew so _little_ of Sasuke, other than what the village's rumor mill had told her. He was an enigma, a man who seemed to her like he might have been nothing but a surface layer. Was he _hollow_ inside?

 _Impossible_ , she knew. She had positively _felt_ something from him; something that shouldn't rightly have been there if the whispers were to be believed. Hinata saw that Sasuke had compassion that didn't have any right to _exist—_ at least, not according to those whom she had overheard speaking about him over the years. Still, he was colder than she had thought he was at first. When he wasn't actively trying to cheer her up, he didn't seem to want anything to _do_ with her; the annoyed stare was enough evidence of that. _But he invited me to come with him,_ Hinata reminded herself.

Sasuke seemed detached on the surface, but only because he was still quite conflicted on the inside. He was arguing with himself constantly. _How should I have answered that question? It was such a frivolous thing of her to ask...why does she even care why I'm standing? She looks like she really wanted an answer, but what can I do about that?_ He churned the questions around in his mind, hoping to turn them into an answer before their table came up. Not for her sake, he decided—the moment to respond to her curiosity had passed, and she looked positively deflated. Sasuke didn't _like_ that look, even though it wasn't earnestly directed toward him. She looked _ruined_ , even though the question appeared to be such a small one. _Is she really that fragile? Is this even still because of Naruto, or...?_

As he was thinking, ten minutes passed by quickly; it was as if time had decided to be merciful upon the pair's awkward silence. "Table's up for Uchiha!" The greeting host held up a hand-written slip with a table number upon it. "I'm sorry, but you'll have to escort yourselves up; it's the dinner rush! The servers are _swamped_. You don't mind, do ya?"

Sasuke straightened up from the wall and took the offered slip from the rounded man's stubby fingers, checking the number and finding that it was on the fourth floor of the building. He wasn't going to answer the simple question about whether or not he _minded_ , but Hinata rose up behind him and did it for him: "No, we don't mind...thank you very much, sir," she said politely, then clasped her hands at her standing lap and gave a courteous bow of thanks. The host smiled at her and gave a nod, then moved professionally onward to begin passing out the ticket for the next open table.

Hinata then took Sasuke silently by the wrist and abruptly led him onward, taking it upon herself to escort him directly to the table. She had already peeked ahead with her Byakugan to see their assigned place near the ceiling; it was near a window, too. A lucky opening as far as she was concerned, despite the steps they needed to climb. There was one spiral staircase for each of the four sides of the building, and Hinata was dragging Sasuke toward the closest one with a tight grip on his arm. She almost seemed _angry_ with him, based on how she pulled.

Sasuke could have resisted by simply not moving, but he allowed himself to be 'forced'. He focused on her body language, on her expression, on the way her slender fingers dug into the skin of his arm with manicured nails. The purple paint was still upon each finger since she hadn't bothered to remove any of it in her dazed awakening that morning. While Sasuke was studying her, he was made to climb numerous stairs behind her. He intentionally kept himself just slightly _below_ pace with however fast she moved; it was a game to him. He wanted to make her _tug_ , wanted to see how long she felt the need to direct his motion so assertively. Her unexpected harshness was a sudden but intriguing shift in mood.

Hinata took him all the way to their fourth-story table and pulled out one of the two chairs, offering it with her free hand and nudging Sasuke toward it with the other. " _Now_ you can sit, Sasuke..." she said with a voice that wasn't angry, but _sad,_ almost desperate. The tone didn't match her expression, nor the tension in her digits as she kept her grip on his wrist. " _Please_ sit..." she furthered her request, turning it into a plea. She hated to feel so petty, but she was _hurt_ by his lack of an answer a few minutes before, especially after he had been so forthcoming and patient beside Neji's resting place.

Like a rock, Sasuke's face didn't move from his resting expression, but he did take the chair that Hinata offered to him. He gave a hesitant nod, muttered a "Thanks," and then sat in place. Hinata's grip on his wrist didn't loosen until he was decisively settled into the chair. Truthfully, he felt rather stifled by the chatter on all sides of him as they walked, but once he was settled into his chair, he allowed himself to forget about it and focus on Hinata. "Did I bother you, somehow?" he asked, scooting his chair under the table and setting himself a few inches away from it. He couldn't just _ignore_ her actions, but he did his best not to seem irritated by them either.

Hinata sat down, too, but she was still trying to explain her own bold actions to herself. _What was I trying to prove?_ She thought privately as she rubbed her hand along her forehead and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. "N-no, you didn't _bother_ me, I just..." she fidgeted with her hands, laying them on the table as she tried to come up with an explanation. She realized the truth and said it without hesitation: "I just wanted to see you sit down."

Sasuke lifted a brow, looking down at himself as he rested in the comfortable wooden chair; its back and seat were lined with thick padding, making for a surprisingly enjoyable position. "Why?" he asked, intentionally mirroring her earlier curiosity.

"Because when you're _standing_ , I get the feeling that you don't want to _be_ here..." Hinata was blushing again, and she set her important, Hokage-approved missive onto the corner of her table for safe keeping.

"And when I'm sitting?" Sasuke prodded, trying to figure out exactly what she meant.

"Well...when you're sitting, at least you don't look like you're about to turn and leave _right away_." Hinata bit her lower lip and sucked on it shyly. "But you're still wearing that cloak...so it seems like you plan to travel far, and _soon_."

"Don't worry about it...I do want to be here, or else I _wouldn't_ be, Hinata," Sasuke said, quickly shaking off any kind of anger or resentment that may have stemmed from the way he was abruptly taken hold of. He had heard murmurs along the way, voices laughing as if the mighty Sasuke Uchiha was being put in his place. They were obnoxious, but that wasn't what bothered him. What really drove him mad was the way she seemed so suddenly and willingly _decisive_ despite how meekly she had been acting otherwise up until then. The girl who had dragged him all the way to the table—and had even spoken for him to the host—was the very same girl who had been worried about offending the chef for not eating a slice of _cake_. "Why do you think I _don't_ want to be here?" Sasuke wondered out loud, leaning back in his chair as if to prepare for her answer brashly.

Hinata breathed slowly, then shrugged, having relaxed from her spontaneous burst of energy. Her shoulders sloped gently down from her neck, and her jacket was only half-zipped; the building was warmer near the ceiling, as the manufactured heating all tended to pool near the top of the dome-like architecture. Her neck and collarbone were visible and pale, and she still wore the loose shirt which she had slept in during the night before. Though Sasuke _had_ been undeniably distracted by looking at the tone and texture of her skin, his attention was then pulled to her lips when she muttered her response. "You can't _stand_ to be in the village...can you, Sasuke?" Hinata put forth like a pinprick. "It makes you uncomfortable, doesn't it?"

Sasuke turned his head away, folding his arm around his chest and wishing he had a second limb to huddle it against. But even with his head turned, his eyes were tilted to let him see Hinata. No sense being a liar, since she had him figured out. "That's right," he grumbled, finally showing his genuine emotion that time; he lacked preparation against that question. Had she been seeing through him all along, or was it a lucky guess? "This village is nothing but a painful memory of mine...for a lot of reasons."

"Because of your family?" Hinata pondered. It seemed like everybody in the world knew about the tragic massacre of the Uchiha Clan, and although it happened over a decade prior, there was no amount of time that could completely heal such a grievous wound. Hinata knew that for sure. "I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't bring it up..." she apologized with her eyes as well as her words, their whiteness holding a sincere sympathy.

Sasuke waved his hand and shook his head, but kept his attention on Hinata. "Like I said, there are a _lot_ of reasons." A pause, and then a deflection: "I know you were crying last night because of Naruto...but that's why you cried today, too, right?"

Hinata sighed and looked into her lap at her folded hands after they had fallen down from the table. She was caught, too. "Yes...I know it's stupid, even _selfish_ , but I wanted him to love me so _badly_...I thought that maybe if I was just _patient_ enough, he'd come to me some day to finally make me his. I told him that I loved him, once...but he never said anything to me about it, and maybe that's because he didn't want to hurt my feelings...I was afraid to say it to him again after that. Then, when I found out that he had picked somebody _else_ , I felt like I'd never be good enough...not for _anybody_."

Hearing the words come out of Hinata's mouth made Sasuke physically strain, his fingers clenched into his palm as he laid his fist gently onto the table. She may as well have been speaking for _Sakura_ , as far as patience was concerned. The difference seemed to be that Hinata had never gotten _over_ the target of her long-standing affections; she was probably content to nurse her spurned love for the rest of her life, if she was allowed to. Sasuke had no _intentions_ of allowing that.

"Naruto has always been an _idiot_ ," Sasuke plainly stated. "When you told him that you loved him, he probably didn't even know what you were _really_ saying...deep within, I mean. He hears a word like love and thinks it's the feeling we should _all_ have for each other. I wonder if he realizes what you meant, even now...do you think he even _understands_ the love he has for Sakura, or is he just acting based on what others have _told_ him to do?"

Hinata let herself smile, but it wasn't filled with the sadness that Sasuke had gotten used to seeing. "He loves her, plain as day," she acquiesced; she had been in denial for a while, but a moment during the night before had finally proven it to her without a doubt, and _that_ was what made it all feel so different for her—it hadn't been the rings at all. No, not the rings, but the _look_. "When everybody was watching Sakura's entrance...I looked at Naruto, instead. I saw the way his eyes were sparkling...how he smiled big and wiped a tear from his cheek. He looked like he could have fallen onto his knees in _worship_ of her. It was love, _real_ love, that brought them together on that night...and I can never hope to compete with that." Hinata sniffled, but didn't cry again. She looked like was holding it back. "Last night, I dreamed about him. I dreamed that he was looking at _me_ like that, and that everything was perfect...but then it turned to a nightmare. I remember it, now..." She looked at Sasuke gravely, and saw that he was focused completely on what she had to say. He hadn't once looked fully away from her since he sat down, not even when she had indirectly reminded him of Sakura.

Sasuke leaned over the table, placing his elbow on the reddish-brown wood. "A nightmare?" he murmured. He didn't like to imagine the girl in front of him as being afraid of something; the possibility actually ignited some sense of protectiveness in him. "What happened?"

"Naruto was looking at me with such adoration, but...then, when I told him how much I loved him, he _frowned_. Then he got _mad_...he started insulting me and telling me to get away from him; he threatened me...I turned to run away, but I kept stumbling. I felt so ashamed and afraid; _aimless_. I _know_ it was just a dream, and it's silly to get so worked up over it, but... I woke up with tears on my pillow and didn't want to get out of bed this morning. It wasn't really him, he'd never act that way. Still, at the time it felt so _true_." Hinata hesitated for a moment, but she continued with her line of thoughts. "The strangest part, Sasuke, is that there was something at the _end_ of my nightmare that made me feel...better. Not _good_ , but better..." Hinata brushed fingers through her hair again; some combination of the heat of the building and the intensity of Sasuke's attentive stare was making her skin sweat, and that was in turn making her hair feel coarse when it wicked some of the moisture away. "There were _eyes_..." she declared, wondering if it was wise to say such a thing. "Beautiful eyes."

"Eyes?" Sasuke echoed, falling into deep thoughts.

He had intended to say something more, but his train of thought was broken abruptly by a red-faced server who arrived beside their small table holding a stack of menus and a tray with a dozen glasses of water. "Welcome to _Akimichi's World-Famous Ribs, Beans, and Chips!_ " he bellowed, each word scripted but somehow still glazed with glistening sincerity. "Here are some menus, and some water!" He passed out two glasses from the tray, setting one in front of Sasuke and the other in front of Hinata. The crystal clear water was held firmly within the sweating cups, lemon slices hanging over the rims to add a bit of flair. Two menus were given out, too. "Take your time; when I see your menus closed, I'll come back to take your orders!" With that, he was gone, and Sasuke's concentration had gone right with him. He was somewhat thankful; the conversation had been getting uncomfortably heavy again.

Opening the menu and embracing the interruption, the Uchiha leafed through the pages to read the various dishes available. His stomach was still growling, though he had been ignoring it as his focus had been drawn to something _far_ more interesting. With the promise of food laid out in front of him, however, he couldn't ignore his hunger any longer. He spoke, changing the subject from intense nightmares and loneliness to something mercifully simple: "I think I'm going to get something other than cake, at first..." he said, finally able to tear his eyes away from Hinata. He blinked hard, as if to clear the image of her from his retinas. As he had finally been able to see her in decent, steady lighting, he had started to notice how _beautiful_ she was. The Hyuuga girl was a wonder to behold; her skin was radiant and flawless wherever it could be seen, and her frame had a healthy fullness to it that curved and sloped in the most appealing of ways.

"Me too," Hinata said gratefully. She had been getting nervous while talking about her dream-turned-nightmare, and the arrival of the menus couldn't have come at a more liberating moment. She guzzled down half of her glass of water, feeling perspiration trickle down her brow and wondering if it was _only_ due to the blanket of heat. She had been unusually brave to grab Sasuke's wrist and yank him along, and she had been worried about his longer-term reaction to it...but further than that, she could feel the way he was _looking_ at her. Leering, almost— _mesmerized_. She was unused to such a piercing stare, let alone one that was so strangely _welcome_.

Though her discouraged, negatively-charged mind had tried mightily to convince her otherwise, she had at last been allowed to feel _attractive_ again under that gaze...but she also knew that Sasuke was an intense individual, altogether. She wondered if she was just imagining things; maybe he stared at _everybody_ like that, and she was thinking too highly of herself. Either way, she was glad to be able to hide her blush behind a split-open menu. She had been painting her own cheeks red pretty often since she met him, and she felt like something of a ditz.

"What looks good to you, Hinata?" Sasuke asked, again practicing his 'regular' talk. When he was younger, it had come naturally to him—but after his defection from the village and all of the time he spent alone, he was finding it difficult to adjust back into a typical life. He didn't feel like he should have been wasting time with little things, which is probably why he didn't have an answer for Hinata's simple question...and also why he hadn't been willing to answer the host's throwaway question about whether or not he minded seating himself. Hinata, on the other hand, seemed almost _enslaved_ to the little things—etiquette, personal appearance, empathy; she had it all, and Sasuke wondered if maybe he should have been asking her _more_ questions. Alas, no; the only question he could think of was related to the menu and what 'looked good'.

"I'm going to have ribs...a half-order with no sauce, removed from the bone." She ran her finger along the menu, pointing out the selection even as she omitted half of what made the signature rib rack a 'signature' at all.

"No sauce...?" Sasuke asked, smirking involuntarily.

"What's _wrong_ with no sauce?" Hinata asked reactively, as if she had been teased by Hanabi, and not a man she hardly knew.

Sasuke shook his head, hiding his snicker inside his menu. "I don't know, it's just so... _dainty_. I've never known anybody who ordered ribs with no sauce _or_ bones..."

"It's...it's just how I _like_ them, okay?" Hinata defended herself. She plainly felt _good_ , even though she was technically being made fun of. She didn't feel insulted or trivialized; in fact, she liked the way Sasuke paid attention to what she planned to order. He had seemed so detached from the day-to-day that she had expected him to ignore whatever answer she gave. Hearing him react so naturally was enough to catch Hinata off guard. All evening, it had been proving difficult for her to tell whether Sasuke was going to say something deep or shallow, and the guessing game was making her more self-conscious of her own statements and questions. She didn't want to _annoy_ him, but she absolutely _did_ want to _talk_ to him.

"Order them how you like, then...I'll get the same, but I'm leaving the bones and the sauce _intact_." Sasuke tilted the corner of his menu down, letting himself get a glimpse of the flustered girl across the table from him. "I'll even let you have a bite of mine, if you'd like to try the _real_ version." He watched the clues again, noting the way she smiled, or the way her brow tensed when she was unsure. There were a thousand little movements that Hinata seemed to make that signified what was running through her mind, and Sasuke had already made it his personal mission to notice and decipher each and every one of them. He didn't feel awkward, exactly, because he always had the _potential_ to be social. With that said, he was undeniably _rusty_.

"I'm set in my ways," Hinata said with a bit of humor. "You'll never convert me." Things had loosened up again, even going so far as to seem lighthearted. There were no tears, no talks of death or despair; Hinata Hyuuga and Sasuke Uchiha were just two more guests in the restaurant. They didn't let themselves feel like people who had been neglected by their desired lovers, nor did they feel like strangers to each other—in a way that made sense, given their shared origins, they felt almost like they should have been old friends. What had kept them apart all that time?

The menus were closed, and the waiter returned a moment later with a pad opened to a new page. Hinata ordered first, and the server's reaction was predictable. "No _sauce_? No _bones_? Are you sure you even _want_ ribs?" The jolly older fellow was teasing, and Sasuke was giving Hinata a glance that quietly said 'I told you so.' She sunk into her chair as if she wanted to vanish yet again, but for once it was all a joke. She sat back up and took a sip of her water, smiling broadly when she took the glass down from her mouth again. When Sasuke ordered the menu item with no modifications, he was met with the point of a pen. "See—now _he_ gets it! Ordering ribs without the stuff that makes 'em _ribs_...I might have to report you to my manager, my good Lady," he continued to carry on the good-natured 'ribbing'. He shook his head one more time and then slid his pen into the rings atop his pad. "Fine...it'll be up in a few minutes. Sit tight!" And off he went again.

With time to spare, Sasuke's thoughts inevitably turned dark again despite the exuberant atmosphere. "Hinata..." he said with a seriousness that sent a chill up his companion's spine. "You were there when Pain destroyed this village...right?"

Hinata froze solid mid-drink, trembling up and down her arm and feeling a sharp pain in her side. She clutched beneath her ribcage with her other hand but hid the worry—or tried to. Sasuke could see it clearly thanks to his little game. "I was here, yes," she said. She didn't want to talk about it, but if Sasuke wanted to know, she felt compelled to respond.

"Do you think I could have made a difference, if I were here?" He looked upon her as if she held enlightenment in her clutches, and he expected her to set it free for him.

Hinata nodded once, knowing perhaps that he wouldn't like to hear her answer. "Yes...I _do_ think you could have. Pain defeated most of the village and destroyed all its buildings, but...even back at the academy, I could see _your_ strength. _Everybody_ saw it. Naruto by himself was nearly beaten by Pain, but...the two of you, together, could probably have prevented the destruction."

Sasuke closed his eyes and tilted his head down. "I see." The price of his delusional quest for revenge was still being tallied.

"But...Naruto wasn't actually there to stop it, either...he didn't arrive until afterward. Even though he never actually _abandoned_ us, he couldn't prevent it from happening. Nobody can be expected to be everywhere at once...And Sasuke, please don't blame yourself for being gone...I know why you left, _and_ why you didn't come back..." Hinata rubbed her thumbs together.

Sasuke looked at her with doubt. "You know...?" he hummed open-endedly, careful not to give anything away. Had she known about Danzo? About Itachi? About the truth of the village's history?

"Do you still hate your brother, Sasuke?" Hinata asked with unassuming curiosity. Pawing at another thread behind a sweet smile. She didn't seem to know as much as she thought she did, after all.

"No...I abandoned my hatred of Itachi a long time ago." Sasuke was careful. He had already determined that telling the whole truth wouldn't do any good—not yet, anyway. Someday, perhaps, he would write a proper history of the Uchiha Clan and Konoha, but that day hadn't arrived yet. "Regardless of the terrible thing he did, regardless of what _drove_ him to it, there's one thing that he taught me...one thing I'll never forget." Sasuke put his hand on the hilt of his sword, rolling his thumb across the angled scabbard further down. "He was my _family_...and family must _always_ forgive one another in the end. Despite the pain he caused me, I'll always love him for the role he played in my life—for the time he spent as my older brother."

Hinata drank in every syllable that came from Sasuke's mouth, and she heard the sounds of hurt laced throughout. It was difficult for him to talk about it, but Hinata was glad that he was doing it. "I think you're a good person, Sasuke," she told him after thinking over his words. "Some of the people of the village, they want you gone...they want to hurt you, or banish you. I think they're wrong for it."

"You don't know all of the terrible things I've done, Hinata. Naruto never gave up on me, but he probably should have. I'm a criminal, a traitor, a bad person. I've been trying to change, but I can't erase the past or try to ignore it. I'm sure about one thing: this village would be better off without me." Sasuke was getting stern again, and his voice was low.

Hinata took a heavier gulp of water, finishing the glass and leaving a few slowly-melting ice cubes behind. " _I_ think we're better off, as a village, if you're _here_."

"Because of my power." Sasuke confirmed off-hand, feeling like he knew her intent.

"No...it's not because of how well you fight, _or_ how powerful your eyes are. I think we're better off because you _love_ this village...you love its _people_. Even if you won't _admit_ to it..." Hinata seemed sure of her assertion. She was getting her confidence back, and it was directly tied to how much time she had spent under Sasuke's thorough attention. He had been unknowingly fueling her resolve. "And we all _need_ people who love us, or else we might lose ourselves forever. Many people love this village, but you're an Uchiha...they say that an Uchiha's love is the strongest love that can ever exist."

Sasuke scoffed, but he kept his eyes upon her. Again, he was caught by her appearance—his eyes ran along the shape of her face, indirectly sampling the smoothness of her cheeks and the silken appearance of her swaying hair. He spoke as if to redirect her path: "Let me tell you something about why I didn't leave after last night, Hinata."

Hinata shook her head. "Don't, Sasuke...right now, it doesn't _matter_ why you haven't left again. What matters to me is that you're still here, and that you're making things a _lot_ easier for me right now..."

Sasuke accepted her objection and closed his mouth. As far as he could remember, that was the first time he had ever been told that he made things _easier_ for somebody, even though he couldn't possibly understand why she thought so. After another stretch of silence, he nodded. "You're right. It doesn't matter..." Whether he was there under the pressure of a promise or not, he _was_ there, and he had been graced with the attentive, curious, unpredictable, and gorgeous company of Hinata Hyuuga. He could certainly think of _worse_ people to be stuck with as a result of his promise. After mulling it over, he changed his mind; earlier, he thought that it was too late to give her an answer, but maybe it was _never_ too late. He muttered as if he was unsure of himself: "I was standing because I didn't want to get comfortable in one place, only to be moved to another right away," Sasuke told her. It was a simple explanation, one that he didn't think was important...but she had asked, and his lack of an answer along with the disappointment he caused had been haunting him. He heard Sakura's voice repeating in his head: _Try,_ she had begged of him...and so he tried.

Hinata perked up, her lips turning into a surprised little circle. "H-huh?" she huffed inwardly.

"You asked why I didn't want to sit down while we were waiting in the lobby...it's because we were going to be given a table soon, and I didn't want to settle down before it was really _time_ to settle down." Sasuke answered again, with more detail. "I thought it would be pointless to rest for five minutes and then stand up again."

Hinata gulped subtly, unsure of how to take his random 'confession'. It was so innocuous, yet it meant so much to her. She responded with an admission of her own, one that was somewhat related. "And I grabbed you to drag you up here because...heh, I was afraid that if I didn't, I'd get _scared..._ and that I might have tried to leave if I didn't do something drastic to make sure I stayed. I was just trying to take my mind off my doubts."

"Scared? You mean that you're scared of me?" Sasuke asked, hoping for clarification. Hinata was still trembling, and it wasn't just his imagination that told him so.

"No...well, _kind of_..." Hinata focused on breathing deeply enough to stay afloat; her head felt a little light. Being in Sasuke's presence was taking a toll on her. "I'm not afraid of you. Actually, I really _like_ it when you're with me, Sasuke. What scares me about you is that I don't want to _bore_ you, because then you might stop coming to find me..." It had been under twenty-four hours since they legitimately _met_ for the first time, and yet she was already _dreading_ the day when he might have stopped being there. Her heart was pounding in her chest and she couldn't slow the beating down.

"You don't _need_ me to find you, Hinata...you're plenty strong on your own." Sasuke held up his arm, taking it out from beneath his draped cloak to show his wrist. "And you've got one hell of a grip," he added teasingly. Hinata's tugging grasp had left behind little creases in Sasuke's skin that were marked with tiny rubs of purple where her polish had come off.

Hinata was smiling again. Her head was full of pleasant things; it had even been several minutes since the last time she had felt any pain in her chest. The loneliness was taking a much-needed break. "I was trained by Neji...he made sure that I was strong." She looked down to her own hand, the one that had been responsible for dragging Sasuke. "But with him gone, and with Naruto away from the village, I feel like I'm getting weaker by myself."

Sasuke shook his head. "No, that's not it at all. When a strong person finds herself alone, she doesn't get weaker...she gets even _stronger_ than before. She _adapts_." Sasuke laid his eyes on the envelope that was settled near the corner of the table. "I know you've seen what's inside. Are you going to enter?"

Hinata heard what Sasuke said, but she didn't think he was _right_. If she had gotten stronger, then why had she been feeling so miserable? It was inarguable that she had been far less likely to do anything of her own will since Naruto and Sakura's engagement, but she also didn't think _Sasuke_ , of all people, would lie to her just for the sake of encouragement. Sitting there, feeling like she had been put on the spot, Hinata gave a quick nod to his question. "Yes...I'm going to enter." She hadn't decided, but then suddenly she _had_.

Sasuke nodded with approval. She gave the answer he had hoped she would, which allowed him to give the return he had been hoping to give: "Good. I look forward to seeing all of your victories..." His voice was warm and smooth like fresh caramel, and he could plainly see that Hinata was stricken by the way he so casually offered his encouragement.

"But I won't get very far," Hinata interjected.

"That's a lie," Sasuke pretty quickly called out. "Enter the General Tier, Hinata; do that, and I know you'll perform well. In fact, if you'll allow me to be honest, I'm certain that you're going to be the _winner_ of that branch...but only if you _let_ yourself win."

Hinata shook her head, cupping her hands in front of her mouth shyly. She was having trouble dealing with all the confidence Sasuke was suddenly placing in her. "N-no, that won't happen...so many people who are stronger than me are going to enter, too."

Sasuke chuckled. He downed a drink of his water after giving the lemon garnish a squeeze and letting the tartness drip into the remaining fluid. "For the sake of honesty, I'll say that there _are_ plenty of shinobi out there who can beat you. However...most of them will be entering the tier that's hosting Naruto and me. They'll _definitely_ want a crack at us...and the remainder? Well, you'll find a way to defeat them."

Hinata stuttered around, even in her own thoughts. _W-why is he saying this to me? D-does he mean it?_ Hearing such a compliment from a person like Sasuke was an unprecedented experience for her; Naruto was known for his friendly encouragement, but Sasuke? He was _far_ more likely to write a person off as a weakling than he was to give any kind of pep talk. "D-do you really mean that?"

Sasuke offered a single, curt nod. He didn't seem to be disingenuous. "I do. I mean it wholeheartedly."

"What's making you say all this, Sasuke?" Hinata still couldn't shake the feeling that he was just flattering her.

"I consider myself to be a pretty good judge of potential...and you've got a lot of potential that you're not using." Sasuke answered. "Try, and you'll succeed."

"Then I _will_ try," Hinata replied plainly, as if that was that. The food arrived soon after, with Hinata's plain plate looking predictably feeble compared to Sasuke's full order of naturally-prepared meat. The ribs were steaming and succulent, and the flavor was well worth the wait, sauce or not. Outside the window, the sunset was finally beginning to show. From the fourth floor, the view of the village was breathtaking as it was blanketed under the deepening orange glow. The warm color poured through the clear glass and bathed Sasuke and Hinata's table, and it was as if the sun had intentions to soothe them both directly. They ate in silence, situated across from one another and sharing their very first meal together. They sat across from one another, and had reached a point where they could be in one another's company without discomfort or regret. Their baggage was set aside for the duration of the hearty dinner.

Hinata savored every bite, and when she had cleaned her plate she ordered a slice of cake for dessert—it was the same variety as what she had sampled earlier in the day. Nobody on the staff seemed to notice that she hadn't taken more than one bite of her previous serving (or they had opted not to mention it), and that made her feel quite a bit better about leaving it behind. This time, though, she finished the whole thing. She even partook in the guilty pleasure of scraping the leftover frosting from her plate with a delicate finger and then licking it off.

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 **Fair warning, I'll probably start slowing down my updates just a little bit. Not terribly much, though. As of right now, most of these chapters have been tossed up two days apart. When I say "slowing down" I mean it might be 3-4 days instead. Either way, thank you for reading and I hope you loved this chapter!** **See you next time, which is soon!**


	10. Next Time

**Enjoy!**

* * *

With the meal finished and the sun almost set, the quiet ending to the shared dinner was uneventful. The pair had each revealed as much as they could bring themselves to do in a single day, and the remaining conversation was sparse and simple. Sasuke had offered to pay the bill, but Hinata insisted otherwise after a short exchange—"I invited you," Sasuke had said. "It's my responsibility to pay."

Hinata pursed her lips and shook her head 'no'. "I won't let you spend a single ryo on me, Sasuke—not after what you've done already." She actually felt like she might have pried too much into his business; it had been too easy for her to ask questions and confess things to him, so she hadn't thought of stopping. Had she been pushing him too quickly? She hated to think that he might have been put off by her constant pestering, so she was certain to let him keep his money inside his pocket to make up for the discomfort she may have caused him.

Sasuke's upper lip creased slightly when he admitted it to himself, but he knew he couldn't win the struggle over who was going to pay the check. Truthfully, he could barely have afforded their modest meals, anyhow—it was something of a relief to find out that Hinata could so easily cover the charge, _and_ that she was so determined to do it. "Thank you, Hinata," he said customarily. "Though, next time I invite you for a meal I'm going to _insist_ on paying." He started to stand up from the table as the server returned and acknowledged that Hinata's account was quite valid for the small tab. No physical money changed hands, but the debit was added and taken care of behind the scenes.

Hinata blinked twice, then another time before she processed what Sasuke had said. "Next time?" she chirped, half-shocked and half-giddy.

Sasuke was standing beside the table when he replied. "Yes, _next time_ ," he repeated simply, as if misunderstanding why she was surprised. Behind his thin coating of coy skepticism, he knew all too well the reason for her shock. He still couldn't pin down his _own_ reason for even promising a 'next time', much less outwardly address her excitement at the prospect, so he kept his response simple. He couldn't recall the last time he had been so enthralled by a single person's every detail; she was a mystery who wasn't _trying_ to be one, and she somehow made Sasuke do things that he hadn't planned on doing. He even had trouble justifying some of those things to himself, after the fact. How many of his questions, how many of his _answers_ had been too personal? He was talking without hesitation for most of the night; it was strange how the words seemed to force their way out of his mouth. He felt like a faucet whose knob had been gently turned by the girl whose spirits he was trying to lift. Who was lifting who, then? Sasuke wondered about that.

It was still tough for Hinata to comprehend that the dark-haired loner's attention was being given not out of _pity_ , but out of _want_ ; what could she have possibly offered to a man like Sasuke Uchiha? He was powerful, resolute, self-sure, and a member of a famous family whose name rivaled her own. The only things that she had and he didn't were a larger savings account and a better reputation in the village, neither of which Sasuke seemed all that interested in. So what was it about her that drew him near the second time? And the 'next time'? She couldn't figure him out, even after their lengthy back and forth, and when the time came to depart the restaurant, she was still lost in her thoughts. Her best explanation was that they had both been 'stranded' by the same wedding, thus their companionship was born out of the need for a temporary refuge in one another's loneliness. And that was the assumption she carried home with her.

"I'll see you again," Sasuke had said before he turned to depart. Hinata lifted a hand to him and called his name, which urged him to stop and turn to face her. He didn't look annoyed that time by her pestering.

"T-tomorrow, maybe?" Hinata suggested quietly, unable to look him in the eyes for fear of losing her composure. It had been difficult enough already to avoid staring awkwardly at him all night long; while Sasuke had noticed her beauty, Hinata had also noticed _his_ attractiveness in equal measure. She had never gotten a truly good look at him before they sat a few paces apart from one another. Even in the cemetery when she had been studying his outfit and supplies, she hadn't really focused on _him_. She had been startled too much by what she had seen in his pocket. "Tomorrow is going to be a nice day..." she added, trying to fill the void of silence that blew between them.

"Maybe," Sasuke answered. "It's possible that I'll have business with the Hokage tomorrow." He prepared her for disappointment, and he kept his speech even and practical. "Depending on what he has for me to do, I may not be able to find the time to visit you." He started to turn away from her, but he decided that it wasn't a good enough answer—not for her, _nor_ for himself. He added a promising addendum:"If not tomorrow, then the day after...one way or another, I'll find the time to say hello."

Hinata's heart skipped a delighted beat and she locked her fingers together joyously in front of her well-shaped chest. "I'll look forward to it then, Sasuke!" she sang with chipper honesty, a louder exclamation than she had thought and a broader wave of goodbye than was normal. She realized a moment later that she was drawing attention to herself, receiving startled glances from the crowd walking the village streets. Hinata instinctively shrunk down and held her breath for a brief pause, just long enough to fade back out of focus. Sasuke was smiling when he turned away from her during the silence, and then he was gone. He disappeared in the crowd, and Hinata was left standing there clutching the envelope he had personally delivered to her. Her fingers were tense and her lower jaw was shaken by her adrenaline.

Hinata didn't know the real truth about Itachi's actions, but she still admired the kindness that _had_ to exist in the heart of a person who could offer forgiveness for such a terrible thing as what he had done. Sasuke's apparent devotion to righteousness reminded her a lot of Naruto, but there was a difference...a darkness, an intensity. Sasuke was far more focused and subdued than Naruto had ever been, and the way the Uchiha had been looking at the Hyuuga girl throughout the dinner was enough to make her shudder with apprehension and anticipation. Her own inherited eyes were treasures to be coveted, but she knew that Sasuke could do so very much more with _his_ gifted vision...She wondered if the feared, reviled, and _respected_ Sharingan had any limits at all.

* * *

Sasuke calmly put one foot in front of the other and kept his shoulders stable while he walked away. Once he got out of Hinata's vision radius, though, he immediately found an alley to tuck himself away in, heading down the line with an abrupt turn. Once the noise of the streets had become dull and the streetlights were just a flicker at the end of a concrete passage, he pressed his back to the brick wall and drearily flopped down to sit on his backside. He brought the back of his hand up to wipe the growing layer of sweat away from his forehead, then patted it dry with his handkerchief. He was starting to pant heavily as he allowed his muscles to finally relax, his body going almost entirely slack in the darkness. The stoicism had finally been thawed and he was allowing two hours' worth of pent-up nerves to have a private moment to express themselves. During the meal, he felt like he had done more _right_ than _wrong_ , but still...Hinata Hyuuga was a person who had managed to make him genuinely _worry_ about doing the simple things right. The last thing he wanted to do was frighten her off or prove himself too savage to be in her company.

Hinata seemed so marvelously accepting on the surface, but Sasuke couldn't know for sure that her inner reactions were the same as the outer. He could read her face; he knew the little twitches that meant she was amused, or even offended, but he couldn't see into her _heart_. Likewise, he could only _imagine_ the purity of her spirit; he decided that her essence must have been like a clear, just-melted stream running through a high mountain, untouched by the ugliness of the world beneath and beholden to all things bright and hopeful. There was no bloodlust in her, no desire for vengeance or spite. She was a creature of utter _goodness_ , and such a thing was a rarity in their world, even during the recent days of growing peace. No, he could not see directly into her heart, but he could still inexorably _feel_ what she was like. Sasuke felt viciously tainted by comparison.

After several long minutes of catching his breath and trying to get the image of Hinata's smile out of his thoughts, Sasuke did finally remember that he had taken a lengthy break from his 'important' mission. The sun had gone down, but the day was still active enough to support a few last-minute deliveries. Sasuke intended to have his mission completed by the next morning, even if it meant he would have to hurry along to reach his last two noteworthy deliveries. The symbols upon the envelopes belonged to the Aburame and Inuzuka Clans. He chose the Aburame Clan first, though it was a longer walk to their primary compound than it would have been to visit the Inuzuka Clan. He wasn't in any hurry to see Kiba again.

While Sasuke thought about what to do next, he heard a faint whimper—he briefly thought that it could have been a hallucination, a memory from the previous night, but it sounded like a young boy when it echoed a second time. Sasuke opened his eyes and moved to stand, looking down the length of the alley. He heard other voices, too; faint, probably around a few corners and deeper between the network of three and four story buildings. If he had to guess, Sasuke would have figured somebody was being given a hard time. He sighed through his nose and began to walk through the alley toward the source of the disturbance, his thumb tapping on the hilt of his sword to the beat of each step.

* * *

Hinata was hurrying home for the night, her pace augmented by an occasional skip of glee. She was in a good mood that night because she finally had something to look _forward_ _to_ again. Next time. Two short words had suddenly opened up an entire future in front of her. Hinata had truly been wondering if her time had come to a complete stop; every day seemed the same—dismal, empty, depressing—but tomorrow felt promising again, and it was all thanks to Sasuke's casual implication. _Next time,_ she thought to herself as she entered the larger Hyuuga residence and found her place within.

She peeled back a sliding door lined with paper and plaster and gave a deep exhale, finally breathing easily as she brought the precious cargo in her hand through the door of its intended address. The letters inside told of a tournament with no set date, or time, and apparently no reward other than satisfaction. The contest seemed like some sort of game; what purpose did it really serve? Hinata stepped out of her shoes by the door and thumped her way down the wood-floored halls with quick heel-toe movements. She was trying to pace herself, trying to contain all the excitement that she hadn't been able to release at the dinner table. She had _almost_ forgotten about Naruto for a moment while she was with Sasuke, and that in itself was a marvel.

The high was slowly beginning to wear down, though, and she was losing a thin shave of her spiritedness by the time she reached Hanabi's door and gave a knock. It was late, but not quite bedtime, so Hinata suspected that her sister would still be awake. A moment after the knock and following a muffled 'one second,' Hanabi pulled open her door and regarded Hinata with a toothbrush busily sliding back and forth in her mouth. "What'th up, thith?" She inquired, lisping for the sake of keeping her routine intact. It would have been _so_ difficult to stop brushing to speak and then start again from where she left off.

Even though she was winding down from the excitement, Hinata was still smiling and still a little restless. She leaned down to put her eyes even with Hanabi's, then cupped the side of her own mouth and whispered something to her younger sibling. " _He's still got it_ ," Hinata revealed, to which Hanabi quirked her brow and sought to quickly finish her brushing motions.

Holding off on giving a response, Hanabi waved a hand to beckon her sister into the bedroom while she moved off into her private bathing space. Following the sound of spitting into a sink, rushing water, and gargling, Hanabi came back out with an empty mouth and a dozen questions. She was sweeping her hair for the night with a fancy white brush; its handle was gaudy and distracting. Hanabi was already in pajamas, but she seemed fairly energetic otherwise. Prepared to talk, the younger sibling had a puzzled look in her eyes. " _Who's_ still got _what_?"

Hinata blinked as she sat down on the springy corner of Hanabi's bed and realized that she had been getting ahead of herself. "Oh, uh...nothing," she blushed, her usual way of going back on a misstep. "Nevermind."

"Nuh-uh, _no_ , now you've _gotta_ tell me," Hanabi said with a nosy tilt of her face, scampering up into Hinata's personal space and forcing eye contact with her hands on her sister's kneecaps. "Did you _meet_ with somebody after I left?" Though the nearness was jarring to Hinata, Hanabi's breath smelled _minty_ , at least.

Hinata slanted her shoulder and looked down and to her left, putting her focus on the floor to escape the pointed vision of the one person who was _most_ like her—genetically, at least. Hinata sometimes felt as if they were complete opposites, but for a few particular vices. Cake was one of them. "S-somebody _did_ come to see me," Hinata began, leaning back somewhat from Hanabi and putting a hand on her sister's shoulder to nudge her away slightly. Just enough for some breathing room. "It was Sasuke. He caught me crying, just like the night before..."

Hanabi's curiosity turned into a snarky little grin. She was just then learning about the meeting of the previous night. "Oooh, is _that_ why you didn't want him to see you earlier? C'mon, Hinata, you can tell me—what did he say to you?"

"N-nothing, really..." Hinata said it, and it was true. When she honestly thought about it, their talk wasn't about anything in particular, or anything gossip-worthy. They had just _talked_ , eaten, and then parted ways. Then again, he had said one thing that especially affected her. "I guess he did say ' _next time'_."

Hanabi scratched her cheek, her lips pushed forward to show how underwhelmed she was. "Next time _what_? And you still haven't told me! What is it that he's still ' _got_ '?"

Hinata was already regretting the first words out of her mouth, but she had been on the tail end of an adrenaline rush and she hadn't been able to curb her wild lips long enough to hold it back. "He kept the name card..."

Hanabi did recall something to that effect, but it had been weeks since it was last brought up. "Oh...you mean the one you brought to Lord Hokage a while back?"

Hinata nodded. She thought back to the moment in question:

 _"Could you please keep this until the wedding party, Lord Hokage?" Hinata pleaded with Kakashi as he was working at his desk. He looked up to her patiently, regarding what she was holding with a neutral slant of both eyes. "I-in case he shows up, and he doesn't feel welcome...I know you'll be very busy, but please keep this with you so you can give him a seat all to himself. It will let him know that_ _ **somebody**_ _wants him there, even if nobody else does..."_

 _Kakashi accepted the offering, a finely-created nametag that was designed with a crease; it was meant to be placed over the back of a chair. The thing was small, but easily visible thanks to the bold red on the Uchiha emblem. Kakashi nodded and answered her request agreeably."That's a good thought, Hinata; I actually have a feeling I'll be needing this, thank you." He tucked the custom-made reservation marker into one of the myriad drawers of his workstation, then gave a confirming nod. "It will let him know that he's been missed."_

 _Hinata stood silent for a moment, but she added one last condition: "Just d-don't tell him I made it. Let him think it was Naruto, or Sakura, or you, if he wants..."_

 _Kakashi didn't bother to ask about why it was a secret, and accepted things as they were. "It's a promise."_

Hinata wondered if he had kept his promise, but assumed that he had—even before he became Hokage, Kakashi Hatake was a trustworthy person. If he ever _made_ a promise, Hinata knew that he would do everything he could to _keep_ it. "Yes, that one," she said to Hanabi after returning her thoughts to the present. "Sasuke had it in his pocket tonight."

Hanabi had taken a seat on her own bed, climbing further up and resting her elbows against the pillows at the top. She was sprawled out, stretching and wriggling to get comfortable on her back with her head propped up to keep her attention on her joy-stricken sister. "Do you think he knows where it came from?" Hanabi pondered.

Hinata shook her head. "I don't _think_ so. The Hokage promised not to tell him, and Sasuke didn't mention it to me while we were eating..."

"Eating? Wait, were you two on a _date_ or something? When you said you saw him, I thought you meant that he just crossed your path for a minute..." _There_ was the gossip note; the one thing from that conversation that Hanabi was sure to remember for the rest of her life. She was already thinking about how best to go about telling _everyone_ about the steamy date between her sister and the notorious Sasuke Uchiha. Even at his darkest, most hated point in the past, Sasuke was the secret fantasy of plenty of the girls she knew. Naruto was the angel, Sasuke was the devil, and it was so _tough_ for a teenaged girl to pick one or the other and stick with it. Good boy or bad boy? Hanabi snickered as it seemed that Hinata had chosen the bad one.

"It wasn't a date, Hanabi...don't be a brat..." Hinata was unusually defensive; she almost sounded like she hadn't even finished convincing _herself_ of whether it really _was_ a date or not. It was probably just an incidental meal, a happenstance meeting that meant nothing. But Sasuke _had_ talked about there being a next time. Could it be that he was just looking for a new friend? _On second thought, why am I getting so carried away? I hardly know anything about him._ Hinata tried to keep herself in check, but the itch on her cheek was starting to come back again. She ran her finger down the path, and then she remembered. That spot on her cheek was where Sasuke had wiped a tear away with his cloth. The warm, tingling sensation had lingered _that_ long? _Okay...maybe I'm in trouble..._ Hinata admitted. She certainly couldn't let Hanabi see the way she trembled from top to bottom and forcefully swallowed _nothing_.

"It kinda sounds like a date to _me_ , sis," Hanabi deadpanned, keeping her jealousy restrained. Despite how Hinata always seemed so unassuming on the surface, Hanabi had to silently admire her sister's lofty ambitions: _First Naruto Uzumaki, now Sasuke Uchiha? She aims high, that's for sure..._ The real kicker was that it seemed to Hanabi that, however slight it was, Hinata actually had a _chance_ with Sasuke. Though, Hanabi's assumptions _were_ the machinations of a hormonal teenaged mind, so there may have been some crucial steps missing from the equation she used to prove the romance in her own head.

"Well it wasn't...I should have known better, but I just felt like I had to tell _somebody_ that he still had it...I'm trying not to think too much of it." Hinata was kind of lying about that; she was _obsessively_ thinking about what it meant for the card to still be in Sasuke's possession. It wasn't thrown into his bag with the rest of his belongings, either. Sasuke had tucked it into a pocket of his cloak, a slot that was close to his heart whether he thought about it that way or not. Hinata definitely saw it that way.

Hanabi scrunched her face, regretting her next sentence before it was even spoken. "I promise not to tell anybody it was a date if you don't want me to," she said reluctantly. Once it was a promise, she had to keep it. On one hand, the gossip would have been spectacular, but on the other...her big sister was having a rough time already, and Hanabi didn't want to make things even harder for her. "But don't you think a lot of people saw the two of you together already?"

Hinata shrugged. Her mind wasn't working the same was as her sister's. "Yes, plenty of people...is that bad?"

Hanabi wagged her pointer finger and smirked. "Nah, it's not bad at all...as long as you're alright with people thinking you two are an _item_." She curled her finger and looped it around the same finger on her opposite hand, twisting them around nonsensically. "You should've brought me along. It would have been a lot less _obvious_ that it was a date, if you had."

"That would have been...Oh, I'm sorry I didn't eat with _you_ , Hanabi. I just didn't have an appetite...I swear that I tried." Hinata rubbed her stomach thoughtfully. Despite her difficulty early on, she was satisfied with what she had finally eaten; she hadn't felt so full in a long time.

"No big deal. _I_ got to eat, at least. So, with this Sasuke business, are you already over Naruto?" Hanabi teased, turning to lay herself on her stomach and prop her head in her hands with her elbows on the mattress. As she flopped, the springs squeaked and Hinata wobbled gently up and down where she sat.

"Over Naruto...? I love Naruto, and that won't _ever_ change." Hinata was quick to reinforce her long-standing feelings, but even so, she felt _lighter_ after that night. She had been shown that there _was_ a world that could exist without her expectation of being with Naruto—but was it a better world, or just a _new_ one? Was Sasuke the _center_ of that world, or was he just the doorman who had invited her in? Would he always be there to guide her, or was he merely a stepping stone? She moved to stand up from Hanabi's bed, and the envelope in her hand reminded her of its existence by crinkling with the motion she made. "Oh...where's father? I need to give this to him."

Hanabi looked at the envelope, officially sanctioned and still sealed—not that being sealed meant much to a Hyuuga's penetrating eyes, but the sentiment was nice anyway. "He's in the dojo doing his nightly exercise." Hanabi pointed her thumb in the general direction. "You remember where it's at, right?" The younger one teased the older. "I know you haven't kept up with your training lately..."

Hinata nodded, deciding not to take the jab personally. "Yes, I remember. Thank you, Hanabi. Have a good night." She bowed respectfully as she left her sister behind and closed the door to the bedroom. In the hallway, she was alone again. _Did the people who saw us really think we were on a date?_ Hinata hadn't even considered it at the time, but Hanabi planted a seed of curiosity that was starting to grow. _Did_ _ **Sasuke**_ _think it was a date? Do_ _ **I**_ _want to think of it as one?_ Hinata came to a conclusion in her head, nodding to herself in the empty hall outside of Hanabi's room. _It was just a friendly dinner, this time._

Satisfied by her own conclusion, Hinata took off toward the training wing of the manor to find her father and at last deliver the message she had been clutching.

* * *

A person who looked like a man but acted like a teenager was flanked by what seemed to be a pair of younger flunkies. The central one had his hand on the collar of a young boy's shirt and was holding him off the ground, pressing the weakling against the brick of a wall; the victim was no older than seven or eight. "What'll you do? Gonna tell your _parents_!?" the middle one, the apparent boss of the small mob, was basking in the intoxication control. The kid being terrorized had tears streaming down his cheeks, and his short legs were kicking impotently at the air to try to release himself from his harasser's strong grip.

"L-let me go!" the youth called desperately, but his plea was muffled by one of the henchmen's hands going over his lips. He struggled while the would-be muggers began to search his pockets—they found a wallet and started to dig through it, pulling out a small cluster of money. A week's worth of allowance, no more.

"This ain't enough, kid; now we're gonna have to charge extra for our _troubles_." The henchman on the left reeled his fist back like he was about to punch the kid right across the nose, but as his arm was coming forth, it was abruptly veered off course by something snagging his sleeve and pulling his momentum toward the nearby wall. His knuckles slammed into brick and he cried out in shock as he realized that his shirt sleeve was pinned into the solid surface by a shuriken. "What the...?"

"Let the boy go, and do it quick," a calm voice from the darkness instructed. It was a pointed command; it didn't even echo, so sharp was the delivery. "I don't have time to play nice with you."

The shock wore off the henchman and was replaced by frightened, irrational arrogance. The pinned thug spewed common rhetoric: "Heh...don't act so _tough!_ You just caught me off guard, that's all..." The one with his arm pinned to the wall yanked himself away, finding that the shuriken was buried too deep into the brick to be pulled out. His shirt sleeve was ripped raggedly in order for him to free himself. He reached into a pouch at his hip, then his compatriot did the same, producing sharpened weaponry made of cold, dark gray metal. "You're not the only ninja in this village. How 'bout you empty _your_ pockets now?"

Sasuke stepped out of the shadows of the alley and shook his head in the modest starlight. "Peace or no peace, I suppose that punks will _always_ be punks..."

The one who had been holding the young boy's collar suddenly released him and let him fall to the ground with a thud, turning to draw a sword from his back and point it at Sasuke. A nerve had been struck. "Punk...? I'm a chunin! You'd better watch what you're saying about me!"

Sasuke took a moment to unbutton the neckline of his travel cloak, revealing that his left arm was missing while he folded the cloth up with one hand and set it on top of a nearby crate. The alley seemed to be used for some type of storage, and it felt like an abandoned maze in every direction. "So, what's your game?" Sasuke wondered aloud. The kid on the concrete ground was terrified, trembling; Sasuke never let the victim slip from awareness, even as he himself looked away. If any of the bullies had made a move for the kid in a panic, the attempt would have been quickly dealt with. "Do the shinobi of this village _always_ rob children for their lunch money? Or is it only something that the _weak_ ones do?"

"Yeah, well, who are _you_ to say anything? You're a cripple who hasn't even got a headband!" The proud chunin in the center smirked and pointed his thumb to his forehead. He was wearing his head protector without shame, the symbol of the Leaf glistening on the silvery metal, even in the dimly lit alley. His partners had theirs on, too, now that Sasuke had gotten a look at them. Genin, maybe?

Sasuke brushed his hair down over his left eye nonchalantly; no sense giving away his power and identity too early, after all. "Now that you mention it, my old forehead protector is damaged. In fact, I could use a _new_ one, and you don't seem to _deserve_ yours anymore." Beneath the layer of his hair, Sasuke fed chakra to his left eye to activate the circular rings of his Rinnegan. It was concealed well enough to go unnoticed. Sasuke held his hand up, then used the unique power of his eye to abruptly transport the headband off of the ringleader, putting it firmly betwixt two of his fingers. There was no wind, no sound; the metal plate set into a black cloth simply repositioned instantaneously in response to Sasuke's will. "Maybe I'll just take it off your hands, how about that?"

The shock on all three faces couldn't have been more satisfying. The chunin must have noticed the sudden lightness of his forehead, because his hand smacked to the bare skin above his brow to rub hesitantly. His companions noticed, too: "H-hey, uh...boss? Leader-man?" The one on the left with the ripped shirt was stuttering a little. "Your head-" _Gulp._ "uh...where'd your headband go?" Sweat was starting to pour liberally.

Sasuke was tossing the protector up and down as he took a step closer. "Now, I don't know if I can hold back enough to avoid _killing_ ants like the three of you...So if you run _now_ , maybe we won't have to find out."

Despite the opportunity presented, there was no talking sense into the rowdy gang—"Get him!" The oblivious leader ordered his comrades to charge with him, and they all three started by throwing a small volley of shuriken. Sasuke didn't even need to move his feet, such was the speed at which he intercepted each and every scattered metal blade mid-flight. He easily slipped a finger through the hole in the center of each hissing projectile, and by the time his blurred movement had settled, eight shuriken were still spinning as they looped around his single upheld digit. He had the pilfered headband clutched into his palm by his pinky and thumb, as well.

"I guess we'll find out after all..." Sasuke murmured as he dropped the twirling blades off of his finger to have them clang uselessly against the muck-ridden floor of the neglected alley. _Could these be some of the restless people that Kakashi was so worried about?_ Sasuke hadn't known that the consequences of peace were getting to be so bad. On the surface, the village looked remarkably calm. As he thought to himself, Sasuke took another step toward the thugs, and then panicked shouts echoed through the alleyway as he went to work...

...

...

The victim of the harassment was covering his ears with his palms and choking on his own fear and tears. His eyes were closed and his knees were shaking as he sat forward on them. He had thought about running once he fell, but he knew he wouldn't have been able to escape from a _ninja_ if he were to be chased. He had always thought that shinobi were heroes, not crooks, but he was _clearly_ wrong about that. He had immediately begun to cower when he was dropped, and his hands drowned out the noise of the brief scuffle that followed. He hadn't processed that the initial shuriken had been thrown to _protect_ him. When he finally opened his eyes again after a short silence, he saw that his wallet was being held out in front of his bleary vision, presented to him carefully. "I think you dropped this..." the boy heard, and he looked up to the man who offered it to him.

"T-thanks," the kid blubbered, in awe of his sudden rescue. He hadn't even dreamed of _actually_ being pulled out of the predicament, even though he had been ceaselessly pleading for help in his head. "W-who are you?" he asked timidly as he took his wallet back. The miniscule amount of money had been returned, and he couldn't see the three robbers anywhere in the alley. He didn't feel like his eyes had been closed for very long, so he was disoriented by how quickly it had all happened. Had he passed out?

"It doesn't matter," Sasuke replied, patting the kid once on the head after the wallet was given back. "You should get home quickly; it's probably close to your bedtime, right?"

The kid nodded in a daze, and a strong hand pulled him up onto his feet by the shoulder and gave him a pat on the back to get him moving. "R-right..." the kid mumbled as he began to walk, then after a few steps he ran. "Thanks again!" he called over his shoulder. The relief and jubilation in the young boy's voice echoed all up and down the alley.

After tying his travel cloak back around his neck and shoulders, Sasuke leaped up to the roof of the building nearest to him. He followed behind the rescued kid from overhead until he had clearly found the way out of the alley. Satisfied that the situation had been fully resolved, Sasuke decided to return to his delivery mission. _Aburame first,_ he reminded himself, then he hurried along. If he made good time, he could still have been finished by a reasonable hour.

* * *

Back on the ground level of the alley, there was a conspicuously shifted crate, its lid tilted just slightly ajar to allow for the flow of air inside. Three young men were bundled within, all unconscious—but all breathing steadily—with their backs pressed to one another and their arms tied fast by transparent wire string. Their mouths were gagged as well by material ripped from their own sleeves, but their legs would be free to kick and struggle for help when they came to. Beside the crate, written by a precise hand, there was a note pinned to a wrapped bundle. Enclosed in the cloth package were three forehead protectors, pristine and glistening, spared from the dusty, bruised condition of their previous wearers.

The note read thusly: _"It is in my humble opinion that these three young men should be sent back to the Academy. They are not yet ready to be shinobi. -Sasuke U."_

* * *

 **Wow! Over 100 reviews after just 18 days and 9 chapters? That's incredible! (That number doesn't count the dozen or so trolling guest reviews I've had to delete, either). Seriously, I've never even come close to these kinds of numbers before. Thank you all very much for the support—and a very _special_ thanks goes to the frequent reviewers who have something to say with almost every new chapter! I'm glad that you all take time out of your days to let me know that you care about what I'm writing. It means a lot to me! Feel free to ask questions or make suggestions, too—if I see a question in a review there's a high chance I'll send a PM to answer it. Try not to ask for big spoilers, though—I don't want to give away the upcoming plot prematurely! **

**I hope you liked the chapter. Anyway, until next time!**


	11. Somebody's Having a Perfect Night

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Dealing with the trio of ne'er-do-wells had shaken some of the jitters out of Sasuke's system. He could see clearly again, and he realized something about himself in the aftermath—he was letting himself get too invested in _nothing_. All of his rage, all of his jealousy, all of his doubts, they had all been building under his neck like champagne behind a cork, and the cocktail of difficult feelings leftover from the wedding had been threatening to pop his head right off. Distanced from Hinata and given a chance to relieve some of his stress, he realized that he was a mess—but at least he reasoned that he was a mess which could be _cleaned up_. All along his rooftop-hopping journey to the Aburame residence, he shook his head to clear his thoughts. He felt like sand was being tossed out of both ears, gradually draining to fall back to a reasonable level. The previous twenty-four hours had been a whirlwind of change, of split-second decisions, of spontaneity. When he set his feet before a door and gave a knock, he felt like he was finally setting himself back onto solid ground.

The door was the one leading into the Aburame's house—more like a hovel, a low-down and unassuming place that was hardly befitting of one of the families considered to be amongst the most noble in Konoha. The one who answered the knock was hidden thoroughly by a mix of shadow and clothing. "Sasuke, I've been expecting you. That's because I've been told that you had an envelope with my clan's emblem upon it." Shino Aburame was as well-covered as ever, even though he was at home after dark. Sunglasses, a thick green hood, hands in his pockets. Sasuke had known him better at a time before the hood was a mainstay, and the sunglasses had become thick goggles, but Shino was still recognizable by his trademarks.

"Shino." Sasuke answered with a nod. "It's been a long time."

"Yes, very long. Naruto didn't even recognize me when he returned from his training with Jiraiya. I'm surprised that _you_ did after all this time." Shino didn't actually _sound_ surprised; he was talking with a monotone that made him hard to read. Coupled with the hidden eyes and muffled mouth, Shino was harder to decipher than Kakashi was behind his mask.

Sasuke didn't have the heart to mention that he recognized the accessories more than the man wearing them. In fact, he felt lucky that he hadn't called another member of the clan the wrong name by mistake. They could have _all_ been Shino, to him. "Naruto's not the brightest, but we all know he means well," Sasuke said, deciding to steer the subject away from recognition. "Here's the message," he went on, passing one of his final two envelopes to one of the many addressees implied by the symbol printed on the back. "Share it with your clan at your earliest convenience. There's information and further instructions enclosed."

Shino nodded, clutching the envelope. The moment it touched his bare fingers, a few small beetles scurried out from under his sleeve to taste the corners of the paper. After deciding that there was no poison or otherwise dangerous additives mixed in, the insects retreated back to their living hive. "Thank you, Sasuke. I've noticed that you haven't delivered to the Inuzuka Clan, yet. Is that because you're worried about how Kiba might react to you after last night?"

Sasuke's forehead tensed ever-so-slightly. "I'm not worried about Kiba."

"Should he be worried about _you_?" Shino extended the idea, then his tone finally shifted to something meant to imply softness. It was a very slight change, but one that could be noticed. "Sasuke...Kiba has a temper. He holds grudges. He's going to say rude things. When he does, please don't hurt him."

Sasuke chuckled amicably, sliding his hand through the mop of his own hair and spreading the moist strands out. He shook his head to get some cool air flowing over his scalp—he was still feeling the sweat from his alleyway breakdown. "I'm not going to hurt anybody without a good reason. I don't _do_ that anymore."

"I'm glad to hear that. Now if you'll excuse me, there are things I need to get back to." Shino was the one to cut the conversation short, and Sasuke wasn't terribly bothered by his choice.

"By all means, then. Have a good night." Sasuke bobbed his head once, and then Shino quietly closed the door. Sasuke was glad that at least _somebody_ in the village was more of a recluse than he was, or was at least a _contender_ for the title. That made him feel a little bit better about his being so hesitant to engage with other people. "One more to go..." Sasuke said aloud, sliding the final envelope out of his pack and looking at the symbol emblazoned upon it. It looked like a pair of fangs hanging beneath a small triangle—the shape was probably supposed to look like a nose. To Sasuke, the symbol looked more like a pair of bug mandibles than dog fangs, but he wasn't much of an artist so he just assumed that he was missing some subtle, important detail. Maybe Shino's insects were influencing his perspective, too.

He jumped. Stark reality was still framing Sasuke's vision as he looked up into the night with strong eyes. He could see through the darkness above, and he leaned his head back to allow wind to cross his face and whip his hair when he took another heavy leap. His last destination, The Inuzuka Clan, was a smaller bunch, but still vital to the integrity of the village. In the past, Sasuke had always thought of the individual village clans as separate, disjointed entities competing with one another for prominence and superiority, but after coming to his senses at the hard end of Naruto's fists and words, he was starting to see the necessity of large-scale teamwork. A village consisted of its people; people who refused to collaborate were not part of a village at all.

The latest door, the _last_ door, was knocked upon. The sound of growling, barking dogs was predictable enough so as to not surprise Sasuke when it all thundered behind the closed plank. The knob turned, and Kiba Inuzuka answered—because of course it would be _him_. Sasuke had been hoping to see one of the other, less familiar parts of the clan, but he looked at the coincidence as being given a slim chance to pave over the rocky meeting from the wedding the night before.

"Kiba Inuzuka," Sasuke began, immediately putting forth a polite nod of his head. "Good evening; I'm glad to find that I didn't wake you." A customary greeting, something with tints of an apology. He knew it was getting late, but at least the young male who answered the door was still dressed in day clothes.

"Sasuke..." Kiba started, scowling and baring his fangs. "Not the guy I want to see right now." He started to close the door, but a foot planted firmly near the frame was enough to keep it from latching shut. Kiba looked down and twitched his eyebrow. "Hey, what's the big idea here?"

Sasuke took a deep breath. He tried to think peaceful thoughts, and he finally found a few things that didn't drive him wild in the wrong ways. The violet was there, swaying, but it only reminded him of his confusion over Hinata. She had thrown him into something of a whirlwind, and he was thrashing his limbs in every direction to escape its pull. Seeing her again had calmed the storm somewhat; it had made her more _human_ in his eyes, less of a specter. Prior to that, she was almost a force of nature, some unreal spirit that had been toying with his thoughts. No, he had found that she was just a girl, a girl he had met at a vulnerable time. Nothing special. Nothing to lose his head over. It was only natural for a heart-hurting man to put a pedestal beneath the very next pretty girl to cross his path, but Sasuke had never _been_ hurt in such a way—he had lost family, friends, and dreams, yet he had never lost the type of love he had felt for Sakura, before. It was different; he was still new to such a transition.

Instead of the confounding girl with the dark blue hair, he thought of the two-week promise he had made. He looked at it like an hourglass that was already tipped over—once it was empty, and once those two weeks were up, he could thank Sakura for her concern and then say farewell to the village forever. The others whom he had visited had all been polite, but by contrast Sasuke could appreciate the blatant honesty of Kiba's reaction. _So maybe I_ _ **do**_ _deserve to have a door slammed in my face,_ Sasuke reasoned with himself. _I still need to get this task finished._ He then gave a voice to his thoughts, keeping his tone as disarming as could be. "I'm here on business from the Hokage, Kiba. Rest assured, I won't stay long...just take this message so I can be on my way." He was one step away from a home invasion. His instinct had kicked in and prevented him from allowing the door to be shut in his face, but it made him look pushy. Even at his most humble, Sasuke was subconsciously demanding of respect. He offered forth the final envelope, finally being rid of the burden of his bag when Kiba begrudgingly took it from him with a frown.

The Inuzuka's nose was twitching like he had caught onto a scent, but he kept his intrigue quiet. His eyes narrowed and his hand went back to the doorknob. Sasuke could still hear the growling and barking of several dogs—he assumed that one of them was Akamaru, but the door was just barely ajar and Sasuke could only see a third of Kiba's own frame filling the gap. The fanged fellow opened his mouth, and he didn't censor the disdain that followed: "If it wasn't from the Hokage, I'd feed this to the dogs, Sasuke. I don't care what Naruto says, or how the others feel...to me, you're still a traitor."

Sasuke gave a nod of understanding. "It's your right to think so." He wasn't yet invested in proving himself to anybody. If he was branded a traitor, then so be it. He didn't intend to stick around. As far as he was concerned, one day was down, and only thirteen were left. He took his foot away from the door, relieving its jam but extending a chance at a peaceful, amicable departure. Something out of the ordinary for him: "Is there anything I can do to make up for how I've wronged you, Kiba?" He was still trying to experiment with ways to deal with those whom he had mistreated in the past. Avoiding them all wasn't going to work forever.

Kiba was put on the spot by the question. He snarled. "No, don't you turn this around on _me_. Don't put it on _my_ shoulders to lay the terms! If I had my way, I would've beaten you senseless and brought you back to the village with Naruto over _six years_ ago...but you were so determined to leave that nothing was going to stop you, huh?" Kiba had a fist clenched, his sharp nails pressing into his palms as he struggled to keep himself from swinging for Sasuke's dull, flat mouth. "Let's see...for starters, you can apologize to me, personally. I almost _died_ on that failure of a mission, you know...Neji and Choji, too."

Sasuke blinked in earnest surprise. He hadn't been aware of all that. He had known that there was a mission to retrieve him, in as far as the fact that Naruto had been the only part of said mission to reach him...but he hadn't known how far it had gone for the others. "Almost died...? I'm sorry about that, Kiba. I really am..." He started off like he was humble, but then his pride and solitude took over, and he couldn't leave well enough alone. "But I never asked for you to come after me...you did it on your _own_."

Kiba didn't look appeased, even _before_ the stinger at the end of the apology reached him. It probably didn't make a difference, either way, which words Sasuke had said or not said. Kiba had already decided that he wasn't in a forgiving mood. "Whatever, Sasuke..." He stepped away from the door, deftly letting a massive dog's head squeeze through and bellow out a bark that was clearly meant to intimidate Sasuke. It didn't work. The stoic Uchiha merely stood still with his calm face an inch from the canine's vicious, drooling, gnashing fangs. He didn't even blink. The door was holding fast thanks to a chain latch that hadn't been undone. Frankly, even if it _hadn't_ held, Sasuke was well beyond the point of being frightened by dogs.

"I'll be seeing you, Kiba," Sasuke said under the cacophonous sound of Akamaru's perpetual barking. He took a step back, turning to go. Sasuke was smirking as he heard the wild-eyed dog trainer grumbling and tugging his defeated pup back into the house; Kiba must have expected to see Sasuke _squirm_ a bit after the show of beastly intimidation, because the disappointment was palpable. The door slammed harder than any of the others, which Sasuke took to mean that Kiba would be the most difficult one to win over—if such a thing were even _possible_.

As he departed, Sasuke ran a mental inventory of each visited clan in his head, taking note of his 'first-impressions' standing with them—Ino, from the start, was never _against_ him exactly. Konohamaru, either. Shikamaru seemed agreeable, despite some distrustful undercurrents. The Akimichi waiters and the restaurant host were as friendly as anyone could have been expected to be; Sasuke told himself that he would have to remember to see Choji at some point in the coming days, as he would be the future clan head. Kiba was obviously a rough patch, but he was well known for his attitude; Shino was unreadable but not completely _dismissive_. Overall, the visits had gone better than Sasuke expected them to go.

And then there was the Hyuuga girl. Hinata, above the rest, seemed all-too-ready to forgive him, looking a bit more giddy than Sasuke had expected of her when he said his farewell after dinner—he reminded himself that he would have to remember to say hello to her soon. In his frazzled state of mind, he had _accidentally_ made something of a promise to meet up again within the next two days. How had he gotten himself wrapped up so tightly with her, and so quickly? Twenty-four hours, all a blur of emotion and automatic decisions. He was trying to sort through the details as he walked aimlessly.

Sasuke had instantly become infatuated with her, though he still didn't _get_ it. He plainly felt the signs, but he blamed them all on the residual throes of heartbroken loneliness. He was already making plans for which direction to head when he left the village for the next—and possibly _last_ —time. Patting the empty satchel at his side, he confirmed that no envelopes had been left behind. Only one day of his promise was finished, yet he felt like his endurance had already been exhausted. The weight of the village was too much—though he had tried not to let it bother him, he had begun to notice that various people were recognizing him and giving him terse looks when he passed. He continuously felt _unwelcome_ in the village that was supposed to be his home. Without Naruto or Sakura around, the only one who seemed to legitimately _want_ him there for a good enough reason was Kakashi. Sasuke admitted that there were certainly _worse_ people to have in his corner than the Hokage himself. Still, the Hokage was one man—and the rest of the village didn't always share his sentiments.

* * *

Hinata had been full of bubbly, hopeful thoughts until the moment she reached the dojo to behold her sweat-ridden father practicing his graceful techniques. With tough thrusts of strong hands, the head of the Hyuuga clan demonstrated his might—the air of the simple rectangular room fluctuated voraciously, whipping wind from one corner to the next as the current followed the sweeping, choreographed movements of Hiashi Hyuuga. He was a one-man hurricane, the pure strength and focus of his limbs transferring precisely into all the directions around him.

Hinata had seen him practicing before, but it had been a while since—just like everybody else seemed to be, her father was getting stronger by the day, while she had long ago begun to stagnate after Neji's death. She had gently nudged the sliding door open just enough to peek inside with one eye, observing the routine with her mouth hanging open, mesmerized. Hiashi twirled a few more times, his bared feet swirling along the padded mat on the floor and his white robe flowing easily with his every move. After a few minutes of continuous dancing, he came to an abrupt stop and clapped his hands together, shutting his eyes and finding his personal center before sitting down with his legs crossed. The vortex within the room that had been puffing across Hinata's hair was then calmed, and the rushing sound eased to silence.

"Come in," Hiashi stated after a long beat of quietude, firm and direct. His face was hard, his jaw square and his hair cut much more rigidly than either of his daughters'. He had a very militaristic look to him, combat tested and prepared to march into _any_ conflict to defend his principles.

Hinata nodded from beyond the wall, then tucked herself through the smallest space she could create in the doorway. She nudged it closed at her back and approached the mat, falling to her knees respectfully and bowing her head forward. "Father," she said quietly. All of the excitement had been squeezed from her like juice from a ripe orange. "We've received a message from the Hokage," she explained, using both hands to extend the envelope, presenting it like a sword resting on each of her palms. Hiashi had become slightly more tolerant of what he saw to be Hinata's weaknesses, and yet he still had the judgemental glare of a disappointed parent. Hinata avoided eye contact with him; while she was in his sight, she felt like she was walking across a bridge of ice that was hanging over a pit of searing lava—slippery and shrinking. One false step could have sent her plummeting down.

Hiashi accepted the offering from his daughter without a word, sliding a chakra-laden finger across the seal upon the envelope to split it open and unfurl the contents inside. He began to read, and Hinata remained on her knees with her shoulders and head low for the entirety of his silent observance. He spoke with authority, every word heavy like an ox. "Three of us will represent the clan. One for each branch of the tournament."

Hinata gave a nod, staying low and speaking cautiously. "Y-yes father. I had already decided to enter."

Hiashi's face didn't change; it was already craggy and tight. "Good...then you will be our representative in the Beginner Tier. Hanabi shall enter the General Tier, and I will compete in the Exceptional Tier." He nodded, as if that were to be the end of the discussion. He had decreed, and so it should have been followed.

Hinata felt her foot slip on the proverbial ice when she peeked up at her father in surprise. "Beginner...? I'm strong enough for the General Tier, father." She tried to insist, but her voice was light and frail. In truth, she was only repeating what Sasuke had said to her. There was none of her own confidence behind the statement.

"You aren't," Hiashi said plainly. "You are still merely a chunin. Hanabi surpassed you long ago."

Hinata furrowed her brow and tucked her bottom lip beneath the corner of her teeth. "But...isn't Hanabi still a genin?"

Hiashi answered coldly. "In name, yes. Due to her extensive training, she has not had the time to participate in the exams. Rest assured, her proficiency is that of a true prodigy; _she_ will be our sole representative for the General Tier. That is my final decision..." He didn't physically wave her off, but it felt to Hinata like he had aggressively started to push her out the door with both strong hands at once. "You may go," he said assertively.

Hinata winced slightly. She wanted to argue, to put up a fight, but she couldn't find the resolve. She heard Sasuke's voice again: _Enter the General Tier, Hinata; do that, and I know you'll perform well._ That voice was soothing and assuring, still echoing freshly from merely an hour or two ago, but Hinata recalled quickly that Sasuke had never actually _seen_ her fight. The words felt like empty encouragement when compared to the stern assessment of her flesh and blood. Sasuke's seemingly-spontaneous pep talk had been completely shut out by the patriarch who, admittedly, knew her potential much more thoroughly. "Y-yes, father," she relented, finally raising her head and giving him an uncertain smile. She bowed again once she had risen to two feet, then she exited the dojo with her hands folded in front of her waist and her head dipped in defeat.

She kept her attention focused downward while she took the shortest path through the passages and sitting rooms that would lead her into her own room; she was looking for shelter from the embarrassment of being pulled back down toward the dirt of the real world. As she fell, writhing and whimpering, she realized that Sasuke had placed her upon a comforting cloud. While his words rang repeatedly through her head, they became less and less convincing each time she heard them. _I never thought I was so gullible,_ Hinata said to herself as a way of checking her expectations. Her father was right—she wasn't good enough to compete with certain _chunin-level_ fighters, let alone many of the jonin who would still enter the General Tier despite the allure of facing Naruto or Sasuke in the layout above it.

On the way through the house and to her room, Hinata passed Ko, who was wearing a dark green robe and seated on his knees with a book laying open on a short table behind him. He was looking straight ahead, and every few minutes he would reach a hand behind his back to turn the tome to its next page. _Byakugan training—does he even need to do something so simple anymore?_ Hinata wondered, having assumed that her trusted bodyguard had reached the near-full potential of his milky eyes. "Ko, is everything alright?" Hinata asked as she came to a stop in her purposeful journey.

The man blinked once, turning off his Byakugan and reaching a hand up to wipe the rims of each eye, clearing away the wateriness that had built up. He groaned quietly, covering his sight with both palms after a moment and putting pressure against his skull. "Yes, Lady Hinata," he said through a dry throat. "I've been working on the endurance of my sight," he explained, turning his head to look directly at the book upon the table. "It's all I've been able to do today, since you left without saying anything to me..."

Hinata pursed her lips and gave an apologetic bow of her upper half. "I apologize. Hanabi came to my room shortly after you left, and...then I got further sidetracked, before coming home afterward. It's good to see you." She moved to stand in front of Ko and laid a soft hand on his shoulder, which made her bodyguard smile warmly as he looked up to her sweet—but saddened—smile.

"Are you feeling any better?" He inquired. From the looks of it, he had been sitting there for hours, absorbed into a brand new book still lying next to its receipt from the shop. Hundreds of pages had been turned.

Hinata nodded. "Yes...I'm actually feeling much better than this morning, thank you." She turned her attention to the book. It was hard to determine what it was about, based on the page he had left it on. There was copious flowery detail that hardly expanded upon the plot at all, if there was even a plot to be seen. She wondered what secrets could have been locked away inside those pages, but resisted the urge to begin reading it more closely.

Ko noticed her attention, then cleared his throat and turned to slide a bookmark into place before closing the papery block with its back facing upward. He seemed embarrassed by the contents, so much so that he didn't want the cover to be seen. "That's good," he said through a mutter. "How long have you been home?"

"Not long," Hinata clarified. Her conversation with Hanabi and the short clash with her father had only lasted for a few minutes each; the moon was still low to the horizon. "I've already checked in with father," she added. The meeting had sent a bloody spike through her enthusiasm, and she was having trouble finding her joy again. She knew it was there, a pleasant rope of light slithering around within her dour thoughts, but whenever she tried to grab it, it slipped away. Her grip was never sure enough to get a tight hold on it again. "Actually, Ko, I'm glad I ran into you. There's something I want to ask of you."

Ko straightened his back and laid his hands purposefully against his bent knees. "Anything, Lady Hinata." Ever the faithful servant, he was.

"I need to begin training again. We have just received word from the Hokage that the Five Great Nations are going to be holding a tournament in Konoha. Father has consented to my entering into the contest, but I know that he and Hanabi will be busy training together...so I'd like _your_ help to get started with my practice."

Ko bowed his head and gave a cheerful grin. His groomed hair flopped when he brought his gaze back up to look upon his cherished duty. There was love and appreciation in the way he looked at her; it was the look Hinata had wished her father would have given her more often. Ko did _so_ want to feel useful again; devoted bodyguards like himself had very little to do in times of stable peace. "It would be my honor, Lady Hinata." He took his eyes down and brought his forehead to the floor in front of him, holding the submissive position for a moment before creaking back up to his previous sitting stance. "We can start as early as tomorrow. Please let me know when you have need of me!"

Hinata had taken a step back from him when he bowed, and she held an arm vertically across her stomach and chest, scratching the side of her cheek. The tingling was still bugging her, but after realizing the source of the lingering feeling, it was less of an annoyance and more a recognized source of longing. "Thank you very much, Ko!" Hinata said graciously, genuinely glad for his agreement. She was privately hoping that their second attempt at training together would go more smoothly than the first—if he hadn't gotten _stronger_ since then, she feared that she would simply be going through the motions by sparring with him. Still, he was her only real option. "For now, I'm exhausted. I'll see you tomorrow." She gave a nod of her head. "Goodnight."

Ko answered with his own nod as Hinata turned to leave him to his practice. "Goodnight," he echoed, watching her leave and making sure she was headed to her room before he carefully turned his hand backward to pluck open his book again. With a somewhat-guilty smirk, he began to read the latest page with his reactivated Byakugan. When he turned to the next page, it appeared to be part of a fairly _adult_ sort of reading material. He had lucked out when Hinata arrived—the section he had left off on was tame, and actually nonsensical enough to obscure the general subject matter. He told himself that she must _never_ know of his habit—he quietly blamed the Sixth Hokage for having introduced him to the old series, anyhow.

* * *

It was dark in the Land of Waves, but the small island nation was blanketed by the starlight of a clear spring night that granted a wide degree of visibility. The pleasant breeze wafting in from the ocean was teasing the very top balcony of the towering hotel which Naruto and Sakura had arrived to a short while earlier in the night. Coupled with the sentimental value of the location, the newlyweds had picked the Land of Waves due to the promise of free hotel lodging in exchange for all of the help and inspiration they once brought to the land. The pair was still unpacking for their two-week stay, but had taken a break along the way to admire their suite's view of the sparkling, moon-painted sea.

Sakura was leaning over the steel railing, her elbows propped on the edge and her arms dangling limply over the side. Naruto was behind her, hands on her hips and lips on her shoulder as he whispered. "It's nice here, eh?"

Sakura nodded, reaching a hand up to clump into his shortened blonde hair behind her head, holding him close and smirking. "This place really became prosperous, just like Tazuna said it would..." she said with confidence. She could see the shape of the Great Naruto Bridge from their top-level balcony, a yellowish line that was lit by the occasional lamp along the edges. "Thanks to _you._ "

Naruto gave his wife's neck a nibble, breathing a husky whisper as the playful teeth wandered to her earlobe next. "We _all_ did our part to make it happen. Me, you, Kakashi-sensei, even Sasuke...this was the first place where we really _accomplished_ something together, y'know?" As he kissed, nibbled, and pinched, Sakura was tilting her head to give him space to play along her skin, her hand still keeping him nearby and urging him not to stop.

"Mm, it's _really_ nice here," she said, adding emphasis. "And there won't be any interruptions..." she continued, pushing herself back against the sturdy frame of her lover, melting into his heat and feeling a shiver roll along her skin to become goosebumps. Every little touch he gave to her was intuitive, like he knew exactly which parts of her were the most sensitive at which times—but of course he did. He had been pursuing her since they were both impressionable children; he had paid _attention_. Naruto Uzumaki's greatest strength was his empathy, and it came into play in many more ways than just making _friends_.

They were still toying with one another, teasing and hinting, rubbing and squeezing. The anticipation was slowly building through the night as it had built along the journey. Dirt and rain had colored their travel, but neither of them had been deterred by the discomfort of their road. Sakura's only discomfort came from elsewhere, and she clutched Naruto's hand with a sort of worry. She turned her head to his, wetting his lips with hers between every few words. Her affection for him was at its peak, though her mind had been nagging her. "Do you think Sasuke is alright?"

Naruto didn't stop, either. His hands roamed across her shoulders and down her sides, strong fingers digging into her tight muscles to relax them completely. He could feel her slackening against him, falling forward onto the railing, and he followed her there to contour their bodies together. "He's gonna be fine, Sakura," he said with complete faith. Naruto was known to be an honest person, and everything he ever said had a peculiar habit of turning out true, even if it was initially a fantasy. "Two weeks is plenty of time...he'll find _something_ in the village he won't be able to live without."

Sakura nodded, huffing slightly and feeling her face grow hotter as the joy of physical teasing ran through her. "Maybe...but if he doesn't _want_ to find something, do you think he really will?" It was getting harder for her to concentrate on the discussion as her body moved on its own, but neither of them were willing to fully abandon the talk yet. Sakura and Naruto had both known that Sasuke would be in a bad place after their wedding, but they also had faith in his resolve. "I mean...nothing's _really_ stopping him from leaving _tonight_."

Naruto shook his head, rubbing his cheek against his wife as he leaned over her. "He made a promise. He's not gonna break it, y'know? And besides all that, Kakashi-sensei told me he'd do whatever he could to get Sasuke back into the village for good."

Sakura nodded, eyes shut tight and lips curled together. "Mmhm," she answered. Words were starting to fail her; it was time for her final coherent thoughts of the night. "Kakashi-sensei _will_ hold things together while we're gone...so let's not worry..." She abruptly turned around, pushing Naruto back slightly with a hip bump to make room, then she hopped backward to lay her rear on the railing and look up at the world-famous hero with a deep breath. "Let's just have a good time together," she resolved, scooping her arm around Naruto's neck and forcefully drawing him into her embrace. As their kiss became something even more intimate, she allowed her troubled thoughts to fade away. She had briefly felt guilty when she was looking Sasuke in the eye that morning, but no more—he was strong, and _she_ was strong. As Naruto said, things would work out...and besides, even if she had wanted to keep worrying, her thoughts had quickly become too filled with love for her new spouse. There was no room left at all for anything negative to take root.

The sparkling night turned out to be a truly perfect one in the Land of Waves.

* * *

The perfection didn't transfer into Konoha. The night was pleasant, surely, but there were _countless_ flaws even so. Though Sasuke had stopped a single group of thugs, there were many more that went unpunished. Kakashi, the Sixth Hokage, was the one who had been trying to deal with the rising crime rates all along. He understood all too well the causes behind the increase, and he was trying to find a rapid resolution. He was writing away on pages of proposals at his desk with a quick hand, making notes and writing suggestions to himself in the margins of said notes; notes with notes on top, thousands of words per page and not nearly enough to satisfy his mind. He had intended to be alone in his office for the night, but his ever-faithful aide, Shizune, had not allowed it.

She was in a chair beside him, peeking over his shoulder and making the occasional question or remark about his work. She wasn't much of a politician—she knew how to handle the gears and knobs of the _process_ of politicking, but she wasn't one who liked to make decisions. Still, she did what she could to add perspective. "What if it's just a phase? Don't you think it could even out on its own?" The dark-haired assistant suggested by candlelight. Kakashi had insisted on turning the proper lights off overhead, leaving the two close together in soft, soothing orange tones.

Kakashi shook his head, one hand busily sketching while the other rubbed along his forehead. "Yes, it _is_ a phase, but it won't even out on its own. This village has been sustained by its mission income for decades; when the income slowed due to fewer international missions from the Fire Daimyo, it created a noticeable deficiency of funds." He looked over to Shizune, who held up a fresh cup of coffee for her superior. He nodded in thanks, tugging his mask down to take a long sip of the dark liquid. It wasn't too hot, nor too cool; she knew exactly how he liked it. He kept his mask down, since his official office hours had long since closed. The door was locked and the windows shuttered. He continued his explanation as he had done half a dozen times before. "The village economy used to depend entirely on ninjas making money from missions. Those shinobi would then spend their money in town to feed into the civilian population. Without the mission income, however, less money is reaching the common folk. That means fewer jobs and harder times all around."

"I thought the biggest problem was boredom. Isn't the upcoming tournament meant to divert the unrest?" Shizune asked, taking in Kakashi's face with a timid sideways glance. Even though she had seen him unmasked dozens of times after dark, she was rather entranced by the vision. Without his hat, headband, or mask, his hair hung down and he had a positively wild look that sometimes made her neck feel a bit warm around the collar.

Kakashi paid Shizune a sideways glance as well, feeling her eyes upon him and not discouraging her in the slightest. "Boredom is _part_ of it, but we can't ignore the money. Many of the people who used to survive off of mission income have become construction workers, messengers, or security guards for businesses after dark...but still more have been unable to adjust to the new economy. We're going through a rough transition, in many cases—robberies and street fights are becoming more common."

"What about the Military Police Force? Aren't they able to keep the peace?" Shizune asked him. She knew very well what his answer was going to be, but she liked to provide a step-by-step process to help the Hokage to work through problems. Sometimes it took a total retracing of steps to stumble on the right path.

"To an extent," Kakashi answered as expected, then he took another sip of steaming coffee from a plain white mug. "But stopping crimes one at a time doesn't deal with the issue. The violence is only a symptom; we need to address the _cause_. Unfortunately, our current plans won't start making sense until our research and development teams have had a few more breakthroughs. Our technological branches should give us profitable exports _soon_ , but we won't see the gains for quite some time." Kakashi paused, taking a momentary breather and leaning back in his sturdy chair. He folded his arms behind his head. "And even if stopping the crimes one at a time _were_ to be enough, it's not like the police force is as powerful as it used to be. It's practically a skeleton crew, and _has_ been ever since the fall of the Uchiha Clan. The ANBU have tried picking up the slack, but nobody has been fully _committed_ to the cause. There has traditionally been a stigma attached to enforcing the laws on the street. Domestic problems get messy; it's a lot easier for a shinobi to sleep at night knowing that the person who they punished on a mission was from somebody _else's_ village. When the people of your own _home_ begin to fear and resent you, things get...complicated."

Shizune gave a nod, leaning a little closer while she listened to the Hokage's measured voice. He had a way of speaking that just drew her in, an inch at a time, until she often found herself uncomfortably close to him. Usually she snapped _herself_ out of it, but that night there was a sudden knock at the door. She got skittish, yelped, and covered her mouth with both hands like she had been caught. "I-I'll get it," she stammered, blushing. She had been taken off guard in the same way as when Sasuke had silently entered earlier that day. At least she had a moment to _breathe_ this time, settling herself and moving to the door.

Kakashi pulled up his mask while Shizune unlocked the door and opened it. She gave a pleasant greeting and a reminder that the office was closed for official business, but then she blinked when she understood through whispering exactly who—and what—had come to visit. "Lord Hokage," she started over her shoulder. She seemed apprehensive. "You _may_ want to hear about this."

"What is it?" Kakashi asked pertinently, quite busy again already. He noted her tone and looked carefully toward her.

"Well...it's about Sasuke," Shizune replied. "It seems like he's been getting himself into trouble..."

Kakashi blinked. "What? Already?" He groaned quietly, setting his pen down and standing up. "Alright...let's hear it, then..."

* * *

 **So, that more or less wraps up the first 24 hours of the story. The 'two weeks' of the promise will start to go by a bit more quickly after this—and the tournament isn't some far-off goal that's never going to happen, either. In fact, the story isn't even going to be _over_ by the time the tournament is resolved. I just felt that the first full-day period of Sasuke's return should be given a lot of attention, for all of its occasional wackiness and awkward admissions. Groundwork has been laid. This is going to be a _terribly_ long one, so strap in, haha.**

 **As some of you have noticed, I'm still on a two-day schedule. Like I said before, I _might_ slow down, but I _haven't_ yet. The constant reviews, favorites, follows, and even just visitors are keeping me heavily motivated, and it's summer, so I've got plenty of free time right now. Again, I can't possibly thank you all enough for your interest. I hope you liked this one! **

**See you next time.  
**


	12. Like Father, Like Son?

**Enjoy!**

* * *

"Mom, does Dad really love you?"

"Hmm?" The dark-haired woman hummed, faced away from the curious child. She was washing dishes after dinner, the scent of soap strongly filling the kitchen as she sloshed around in the sink. "What do you mean? Of course he does. He loves _all_ of us."

"How can you tell? He always seems so _mad_..." The hazy-faced child kept on the issue; it was something that had bothered him for most of his short life.

"Listen, Sasuke," Mikoto Uchiha said with a voice that sounded like a brush of wind through a group of chimes. "Your father can be... _intense_. There's no doubt about that." She rinsed the suds off of her hands and dried her fingers with a towel. She turned and kneeled down before her son, Sasuke, clutching his cheeks between her palms. "He's cold, but warm...stern, but soft. Harsh and kind; quiet, but so _full_ of affection. He's a serious man, but he can be fun, too. He's all leather and roughness on the outside, but in his depths his heart beats with joy. He loves his family, his people, and his village. He would do anything for _any_ of us. If you can't see it in him yet, just give it time—trust me. Some day, you'll see that he's not as harsh as you think he is."

Sasuke remembered the feeling of doubt that pumped through his veins. He remembered the warm, moist feeling of his mother's hands on his face; the smell of soap was just as overpowering as he recalled—no, it was even more so. Even as he experienced it, he knew it wasn't _just_ a dream—no, it was a perfectly relived memory aside from the hazy, dreary borders of his vision. He knew the words that were going to come out of his own young mouth next, and they came with a pouting, bratty nature. "I knew you were going to say something like that. Sometimes I doubt Dad's even human...he barely even looks at me, _or_ you. Only Itachi."

Mikoto brushed her fingers through Sasuke's hair, using the lingering wetness from the dishes to spike his strands upward in a silly way. "He loves you, Sasuke." She reiterated: "He loves you just as much as I do. Like I said, just trust me." The comforting words of his lost mother soothed his soul all over again, and he felt the hollow warmth of a dream as it kissed his forehead and tried to make him feel _alright_ again. The feeling didn't last.

Soon, the dream turned to a darker place—his childhood kitchen and the apparition of his mother melted graphically away as he saw Sakura lying in the dirt beside the main gate of Konoha. She was there because she was waiting for _him_ , but he could plainly that she was losing the last grasp hope that he would ever return. Her cheeks were stained with tears that had fallen in several directions across her heated pink face, like she had been tossing and turning and unable to cease her sorrow. Sasuke wanted more than anything to reach out and touch her skin, to dry her chapped flesh and ease the crushing weight upon her heart. But he couldn't. _I'm not there,_ he reminded himself. He watched the scene for what felt like hours, days, weeks, months, years—for an eternity he beheld the never ending cycle of his abandoned beloved as she emptied her anguish into the dirt.

He had been through _that_ dream before, too, though it was not a true memory. He knew what was coming next, and he felt both arms flexing in resentment of it. As Sakura lost herself, she was _found_ by an old friend—Naruto Uzumaki. He materialized at the gate and went to her. Naruto fell to his knees, formed real tears along the sides of his eyes, and assured Sakura that Sasuke was going to come back. She asked him when, and he didn't answer—he _couldn't_ answer. Instead, he laid a hand on her shoulder and said with a piercing, poignant manner of speech: "I'll stay with you until he does."

Over and over again, Sasuke had seen the same scene unfurl before his helpless eyes. He wanted to burn it all away with blackened flames, but in that dream, his Sharingan, Mangekyo, and Rinnegan were all useless. The only thing that could overcome the power of those legendary eyes was the mind of the man who possessed them, and Sasuke was helpless against that very same mind as it deliberately tortured him. He was forced to watch as Naruto brought steaming soup to Sakura's shivering self; the good-natured young man covered her with a blanket and gradually sat beside her, then laid a hand on hers. Eventually, Sakura's hand turned to cradle Naruto's in return. Their fingers locked. Her head fell upon his shoulder. They stopped looking at the road, and they started looking to the stars above. They were moving on together.

Always helpless, unable to change history yet perpetually wishing to, Sasuke watched his friends fall in love through the course of a single dream, all while sitting a single spot with Konoha at their backs. They laughed and sighed, talked and cried; an entire life's worth of shared experiences was suddenly interwoven like their fingers, which never came apart. And then there was the kiss—it was always the _kiss_ that ignited the rage. Sasuke had actually been partially _glad_ for the comfort he saw in Sakura's eyes before that; seeing her loneliness soothed was something that made him sigh with relief, inward and out, regardless of _why_.

But the kiss was the turning point; it was no longer friendship that soothed her, but love. Honest love. Sasuke couldn't be certain that the couple's _real_ transformation from friends to lovers had gone exactly as it had been in his dream, but he had a feeling that it was at least _similar_. The kiss was long, passionate, mutual; all things that Sasuke hated to see, things that made him mad with jealousy. It wasn't spontaneous, like an accident—no, the kiss was something that had been building for a long time, finally realized and embraced like a woman clutching her newborn child for the first time.

The kiss continued to go. The rage was already in Sasuke's heart, but then the kiss became something more erotic, more difficult to watch. As Naruto used the force of his lips to gently tilt Sakura onto her back, Sasuke couldn't take the dream any longer. As he had done a dozen or more times in the past, Sasuke tensed both arms as hard as he could, clamping his fists into globes as tight as diamonds. Which arm he used varied from night to night—tonight he used his left. He was unable to move by walking, his legs fixated in a single spot of his imagined existence—but he could swing his other limbs. He turned to face a nearby tree that only existed because he willed it. He took the side of his left fist and slammed it roughly into the solid bark. It splintered, spraying shrapnel all over his skin and abruptly waking him up.

He sprung out of his sleeping position, his left arm feeling like it had buried deep into the dirt at his side...and then he recalled that his left arm was absent from the real world. He looked to where the limb should have been, but it was gone. He felt its presence, but fortunately the world around him _hadn't_ felt it. Sometimes, within his dream, he used his right arm to crush the bark—and on those occasions he would wake up with his fist buried into a stump, a stone, sometimes a fancy wooden dresser. His dream had cost him a fair measure of good will as he made the trek 'home' for the wedding. He thanked his subconscious for picking _left_ that night, then brought his intact arm up to nurse the sweat trickling down his face and over his shoulders beneath his dingy shirt.

It wasn't morning yet, so he hesitantly turned back over and forced himself to fall asleep on the ground. He found himself longing for the simplistic dream of a flower from the night before, but instead, his recurring nightmare began anew.

 _"Mom, does Dad really love you?"_

As the dream played again, Sasuke found himself wondering if he had become too much like his father—callous, guarded, unmoving. He wondered if the people whom he had loved through his life had ever even _known_ about how he felt. As he became engrossed in the dream again, already forgetting the outcome that was rapidly approaching, he subconsciously reminded himself of one important detail: _Use the left arm._

* * *

Morning came, and Hinata was awake and prepared. Her father may have dashed her hopes of proving her strength, but if her destiny was to fight with the lower-skill combatants, then she was going to make it her goal to win. Even if she had to crush the dreams of small children and bashful rookies, she was determined to make her clan proud of her—and Ko was willing to help in any way he could, even if that meant serving as something of a punching bag for his highly-capable charge. He was supposed to guard her, but that morning he was on his own guard more than anything.

Hinata and her training partner were each clad in a white gi, occupying a smaller segment of the network of training rooms built into the Hyuuga compound. The sound of flesh striking wood could be heard, grunts of effort and fury joining in as well. Hinata was warming up with a training dummy, a temporary companion while Ko finished preparing. He was wrapping tape around his ankles and wrists, watching the young former heiress while she demonstrated her skills—however rusty she was, there was still the undeniable grace of the Gentle Fist style in her every movement. One hand, two hands, flowing shoulders and thrashing hair, Hinata seemed quite fluid. Her eyes were focused; she didn't blink while she struck the various pegs and pits in the dummy. Her bare hands were hitting surely, pressing the target against the wall it was built into. The floor vibrated with the sureness of her strikes, and Ko couldn't help but gulp. Was she that strong the last time he trained with her?

After a set of rapid strikes, each mimicking a part of the storied Sixty-Four Palms technique, Hinata took a step back from the wall and squared her shoulders. After taking a deep breath and closing the lids of her eyes, she thrust one foot forward and lunged her upper body, both arms held together at the wrists with her palms jutting out. She slammed her attack into the dummy with enough force to crack the wood across its center plank, the vibrations knocking over a wobbly, unlit candlestick upon a nearby table. The waxy pillar was there for nighttime training, but the sun was peeking through slits in the wall to shine naturally onto the mat. The room they had taken up was smaller than the main dojo, where Hiashi and Hanabi were also currently training—the moment that news of the tournament reached the family, it had become a top priority. _We must preserve the strength of the Hyuuga name at all times,_ Hiashi had said during breakfast.

Hinata was doing just that, it seemed—after cracking the dummy, she started to breathe, centering herself and turning on a bare heel to face Ko, who had finally finished dressing. She spoke with a mild rush in her breath; though slight, she had already worked up a pant and a few beads of sweat. "Are you ready, Ko?" she asked him, stepping onto the central mat and sweeping her toes in a half-circle to her side, assuming a stance and raising her arms. "I'd like to get as much done today as possible."

Ko saw the determination in her lavender-white eyes, and it made him gulp all the more. He was by no means a pushover, and he had a fair degree of confidence in his skills—but Hinata was burning with a passion she rarely had. Was she really looking forward to fighting so much? Ko took his position on the mat and tightened the belt of his training clothes, nodding his head and checking the tightness of his wrappings. "I'm ready," he said at last, mimicking her stance and breathing outward. "Let's start slow...you're rusty," he tried to justify, though his reasons had more to do with his own condition than hers.

Hinata nodded. "Yes!" she said firmly, ready and willing to obey his guidance. She took a step forward, which earned a step back from her sparring buddy. She started to circle him, and he matched pace, keeping the same gap between them as ever. She flexed her brows, forcing chakra into her eyes and tensing the veins that surrounded her sockets and ran down her cheeks. Her Byakugan vision was active, and all of her attention was on Ko—she could see the flow of his chakra network and beyond; she noticed the irregular pace of his heartbeat. He hadn't even done a full warmup, so why was he so elevated? She didn't stop to ask, but as promised, she started slow—her first aggressive step was a light one, but still filled with expertise. She gathered Ko's attention toward the left side, flexing her arm and beginning a strike, though she then switched focus and delivered a quick thrust of her right limb instead.

The first attack was blocked by a lifted palm; Ko caught the testing fingers, feeling a light sting through his hand where the raw physical force had connected. He tried to play it off, giving a nod and a moment of speech to distract from the way he shook his hand out. "Good feint, Lady Hinata," he praised honestly. The pain of pins and needles ran through his digits. They had both agreed not to utilize jyuken during training, and Ko's Byakugan could see that Hinata was honoring that agreement—but the impact still hurt more than he expected. He could tell that she was moving slower than she had been with the dummy, though. He was certainly grateful for that.

Hinata nodded. "Thank you," she said, clasping her hands in front of herself and giving a bow. "Please tell me of any mistakes I make. I need to learn a great deal." She started in again, following the same routine, but she did it a little faster—a _little_ harder. Again, her fingers were stopped by a swift palm, though she had aimed for the opposite side from before.

Ko felt the bones near his wrist rattle slightly when he stopped the second hit, even despite the tight wrap meant to hold his joint steady. His elbow, too, started to fold against the impact of Hinata's wading assault. "Hinata...your strikes are true. For now, let us work on defensive techniques." That was code for 'let me try to hit you instead,' which would at least give him time to get used to the sudden movements again. As rusty as Hinata may have been, Ko had to admit that he was hardly in better discipline than she was. Hinata gave a nod, and Ko took over the offensive maneuvering. He went hard and fast, abandoning his mantra of taking it slow—he was curious.

The first strike was for her gut, but it was deflected by a gracefully-tilted arm; she sent his momentum aside with little effort. _She has me wide open,_ Ko thought...but she didn't take the opening. With the slight diversion of Ko's movement, Hinata should have been able to blow him back with a left thrust. Ko had called for _defensive_ techniques, though—she wasn't going for the counters. Again, he was thankful. He recovered quickly from the redirection, then followed with another thrust, that time for her throat. She dipped her head, narrowly avoiding the horizontal sweep, then subsequently brought both arms up to deflect Ko's secondary incoming downward swing. The thickest part of his palm was knocked away by the bend of Hinata's elbow, and a swirl of her waist and entire upper body sent him thrashing aside. He curved, his whole body twisting a full rotation and his feet stepping back as he restabilized. _She could have gotten me again...there's no_ _ **way**_ _she belongs in the Beginner level of this tournament._

Ko poised himself, swallowing hard and wiping the sweat from his neckline with the cloth of his gi. He gave a nod to Hinata, who looked stoic and sure. _Am I testing her...or is she testing me?_ He suddenly felt the pressure to perform, abandoning his restraints and swooping in quickly. He went toward her with speed that could have blinded a mere genin, teeth clenched and fingers splayed frantically. He stepped forward, then back, feinted to the side, then aimed a rising left jab between her arms like he was trying to thread a needle. Even with his precise assault, the speed of his attack seemed like nothing to his supposed-to-be-student. She should have been out of practice; she should have been _weak_. Why was he unable to even lay a hand upon her? His deftly-aimed strike found nothing but air, which rushed around the tips of his fingers to compact into a crack, much like the snap of a whip. Hinata was already down, her head leaned back and her feet turning. Her hair filled Ko's vision as she dipped low beneath the arc of his following thrust, bypassing his defenses utterly. He panicked for a moment as his Byakugan saw her every move, but his body was in no position to react.

Her hand was reeled back, ready to spring forth and impact with his gut. He wasn't prepared for her at all; she launched her arm toward the location of his left kidney, and just as he winced in anticipation of the impact, he felt a tender, insincere _poke._ Ko froze for a moment, then released the breath he realized he had been holding captive in his lungs. Hinata was practically toying with him, and they could both plainly see what was happening. The air rushed out of him, and his resolve spilled out with it. Not even fifteen minutes into their training session, and it was already clear that nothing had changed—Hinata had nothing at all to learn from her eager guard.

"I'm sorry, Lady Hinata," Ko said breathlessly, his frozen, retreating stance relaxing into a regal posture as Hinata removed her prodding finger from beneath his ribs. "I don't think I'm good enough to teach you..." He slapped his taped hands together, bowing apologetically.

"It's alright, Ko," she said to him quietly. As Ko relaxed, she did, too. Her shoulders slumped without confidence, and she lifted a hand to clutch around her opposite elbow. "What do you think...? Is father wrong about me?" She blushed somewhat, like she was ashamed of questioning the patriarch of her clan—but it was also obvious that she knew better than to take his word as the final authority. Hiashi had always underestimated his eldest daughter, though he _was_ quite on the mark with his assessment of Hanabi's potential. Hinata knew better than anybody that her younger sister was quite a bit _stronger_ than she herself was.

Ko gave a slow nod. Initially, he was hesitant, but he was sure of his answer by the time it began. "Yes...your father is wrong, indeed. But how is it that you've remained so strong? You haven't been training..." He puzzled at her, reaching a hand up to his chin as his eyes roamed the shape of her body. There was nothing lewd or lecherous about his gaze—Hinata was closer to a daughter than anything else, to him. He was merely admiring the tone of her legs and arms, the tension of her chest and core. Even her neck was poised and solid when she chose to be stern. Yet somehow she was so _soft_ when she wasn't in combat. He would have almost called her _fluffy_ if not for the way she had so quickly ripped through his best offense and defense.

Hinata didn't seem sure, herself, about how her strength had remained. "I don't know...I thought I would have gotten weaker, even if just because of the way I've been feeling these past months." She reached a hand up to brush frizzy hair behind her ear, twirling a few frayed strands along her fingertip. Though brief, her exertion had mussed up her tresses.

"Maybe those feelings are making you _stronger_ ," Ko suggested, unsure of what else he might have been able to say. "Emotions can be powerful tools, if you use them the right way. Just don't let your head get clouded with too many of them in the middle of a fight." He caught himself lecturing, then laughed with his hand on his forehead. "Listen to me, acting like I'm in any position to teach you anything."

Hinata shook her head and smiled confidently. "You're right, though. I appreciate your words, Ko...and I think I know what I need to do, now." She took on that slant-browed surety that meant she was about to say something daring and unexpected. "I need to find somebody else who's willing to train me. Beginner Tier or not, I need to keep getting stronger for the sake of the clan...but with my father and sister already tied up, I don't think there's anybody _within_ the clan who can help..."

Ko's head tilted, and he started to scratch the back of his head. "What about your team leader, Kurenai Yuhi?"

Hinata gave a nod. "Perhaps...but she might be too busy with Shino and Kiba. I saw invitations for their clans, as well, when I glanced into Sasuke's bag—" She paused quickly after she let the name slip, and then she was expectantly looking at Ko with a hint of guilt. His expression darkened somewhat.

"Hinata...that person is dangerous." He kept his disapproval brief.

"I know that," she answered disingenuously. She 'knew' he was dangerous because of what she had been told, but she hadn't _felt_ the danger for herself. To Hinata, Sasuke felt distant, cold, and calm, but not _dangerous_. "He was the one who delivered the message to the clan...through _me_. I hardly had a _choice_ but to see him again." She hoped that she wasn't staring at Ko too harshly, but she felt like she could have been—regardless of the circumstance, she didn't want him to misinterpret her underlying annoyance as being directed at _him_. She was angry, yes—but not at Ko, personally. She was angry toward the village as a whole. The majority of Konoha's people looked at Sasuke like he was some sort of inhuman creature, a man who would have burned them all alive if Naruto wasn't constantly on guard.

And yet Naruto wasn't _in_ the village that morning, while Sasuke _was_. When Hinata looked out of the sunny window, she didn't see any catastrophic events dooming the Leaf—there were no flames reaching high into the heavens, no enormous meteors falling from the sky to end the world. She could somehow _feel_ that Sasuke was still in the village, but despite all the notions and whispers about him, the earthen foundations remained solid and the buildings remained standing. He hadn't come there to end the world—though she had to admit that she didn't really _know_ why he stayed. His arrival to the wedding was surprising enough to begin with—his admiration for Sakura was always whispered about, but never proven. He also never seemed like the type to appear at such an occasion at all, and Hinata could plainly see how devastated he was to be there. All it had taken was a single spoken word. He had said _'Hey, are you alright?'_ and despite the harmless, casual greeting, Hinata could feel the pain radiating from him. She _knew_ that pain. It was the pain which his intrusion had briefly alleviated in _her_.

Ko was still seething inwardly about Sasuke, fists clenched while a bluish vein in his forehead was popping into sight against his skin, separate from his Byakugan's network. His hatred was for the _mythical_ Sasuke: the man who breathed flames to cook small children as a leisure activity, the man who stomped entire villages flat beneath the enormous foot of an armored, violet monster. _That_ Sasuke was the one whom Hinata had been conversing with. Ko had wanted to reprimand Hinata for an hour, or more, about how she should have been more _frightened_ of the traitor, but he knew it would have done no good. Hinata was too kind, too open. The last time he had tried to warn her about somebody dangerous, she had spent the following fifteen years of her life _admiring_ the boy, and she had ultimately resolved to give her _life_ for him. Ko came to understand with a defeated sigh that Hinata was going to do as she pleased when it came to her peers. Now if only she would be so defiant of her _father's_ opinions.

"I guess you should get back to the dummy," Ko said, relenting from his irritation. He decided not to bother her with pointless disapproval and powerless reprimands. Instead, he moved to sit on his backside with his arms holding him up behind and his legs spread out in front of him. "I can't really help you get stronger, physically...but I might as well keep you company for a while."

Hinata nodded to him. "That would be wonderful," she said, and she meant it. With a lingering glance at her winded guardian, Hinata felt a twinge of guilt. She hadn't _wanted_ to be stronger than him, but there was no helping it. Was it really her intense emotional state that gave her strength, or was it the encouragement? She had thought the praise had been utterly squashed by her father's decision, but...again, she heard the velvety-smooth voice of the last Uchiha: _I'm certain that you're going to be the winner...But only if you_ _ **let**_ _yourself win...You've got a lot of potential that you're not using. Try, and you'll succeed._ Though the words felt hollow, she still looked to them for confidence—and the next open-handed strike she delivered to the dummy's torso ripped it entirely in half, transferring a crack into the wall behind and flinging small splinters across the half-sized dojo room. As the upper body of the once-proud mannequin fell to the floor, Hinata started to brew a new plan in her head.

She knew what she _really_ needed to do...whether her family approved of it or not.

* * *

Sasuke entered the Hokage's office for the second time in two consecutive mornings. This time, Shizune was (more or less) ready for him, and she tried not to act flustered when he entered with his silent steps and then spoke his greeting. "Good morning, Lord Hokage," Sasuke murmured somewhat forcibly. The door had been left open and wide, a symbol of Kakashi's willingness to receive an audience with his people at _any_ time—during office hours, of course.

"Good morning, Sasuke..." Kakashi began. Unlike during their previous meeting, the silver-headed fire shadow was quite busy that day. There _was_ a familiar novel on his desk bookmarked further than Sasuke had seen the day before, but it was neglected and off to the side for the moment. Kakashi was busy working on something that looked important. Then again, _everything_ on his desk had the appearance of significance. The busy leader spoke with his mouth turned toward his workstation. "Did you have a pleasant night?" The question seemed weighted, and Kakashi's eyes tilted up toward his student with purpose after he posed it.

"Pleasant enough, I guess," Sasuke answered, not really minding the tension. Kakashi's prodding nature was quite a bit easier to deal with than the looks Sasuke had gotten on the way in. Other shinobi looking for missions had passed him in both directions, and Sasuke had taken particular mention of one in the hallway who was looking dejectedly at a D-rank pamphlet. The paltry assignment must have been all that was left. The low ranks _paid—_ but they usually paid pocket-change, and not enough for a comfortable day to day life. "Busy morning?" Sasuke asked, noting all the business laid on the Hokage's wide desk.

"As always," Kakashi replied, bunching up a stack of papers and tapping the sides against his table to distribute them into a clean, neat pile with no stray corners. "We had a few unexpected visitors after-hours last night," he said, looking over to Shizune. She was quiet, sitting at a smaller desk off to the side and keeping herself busy with some clerical work—managing appointments, arranging message deliveries, that sort of thing.

Sasuke didn't answer the odd comment about visitors, but he did unsling the secondary bag from around his shoulder to prove its emptiness to the Hokage. "Every envelope has been hand-delivered; I've performed my assigned mission, Kakashi." It was always a struggle to call him 'Lord Hokage', or anything of the sort. Sasuke had gotten far too used to referring to his sensei by the first name. It didn't seem to matter which title he used when they were alone—and although Sasuke still didn't especially _like_ Shizune's presence, she was akin to a fly on the wall, hardly worthy of mention.

"So you _have_ ," Kakashi noted, setting his pen down and giving the guest his full attention. "I suppose you're expecting payment, now?"

Sasuke granted a nod. "That's right. I slept outside again, last night. The weather's fine, but the _bugs_ are starting to annoy me. I'd like an honest roof over my head if I'm going to be here for another thirteen days."

"Are you?" Kakashi asked directly. " _Are_ _you_ going to be here for thirteen more days?"

Sasuke hesitated to answer. He didn't nod right away nor mutter a half-sincere 'yes,' though if he had, maybe he wouldn't have been propelled into such a long moment of self-reflection. How highly _did_ he value his promise to Sakura? After all, years ago Sasuke had told Sakura that he was going to come back, and yet she didn't _wait_ for him to return. Should he have repaid the favor and abandoned his promise, moved on without a word? It should have been easy for him to walk out of the Hokage's office, head straight for the gate of the village, and then vanish forevermore. He thought about doing it a dozen times, but every time he did, he felt a tiny surge of reluctance. One little thing kept him grounded, but it _wasn't_ his promise. Sasuke decided that he _was_ willing to break the promise if it meant escaping the pain of his past, but he found that the invisible tendril binding him to Konoha was stronger than it looked when he tried to pull at it. He broke his silence after thinking the question over, deciding firmly: "...Yes. I'm going to stay until Naruto and Sakura come back to _see_ me leave."

"If you _do_ leave just after their return," Kakashi started, then leaned backward in his chair, pressing his fingers together thoughtfully in front of his face. "Does that mean that you're going to withdraw yourself from the tournament?"

Sasuke smirked. "My participation was never _official_ , was it? I haven't even filled out the form yet." He stood in mild defiance—he was essentially threatening to pull out of the contest, but his pride wasn't going to let him go through with it. His hesitation, his toying, it was all for the sake of maintaining his unchained image. Sasuke often said that he didn't care about how he was perceived, but inside he knew that notion was untrue—he wanted himself, the last of his clan, to be free and able to do as he pleased. And he wanted the rest of the world to _know_ it.

"It's true that you never filled out a form. But even if you _had_ , nobody can force you to participate against your wishes. The tournament is a voluntary exercise, a way of—"

Sasuke cut Kakashi off: "A way of bringing the five nations, and all the clans within them, closer together. A way of relieving stress and boredom. Right?"

Kakashi cleared his throat. "Right. Listen to me, Sasuke: despite the wide-scale peace, the lower-class citizens and shinobi of Konoha have been more stressed lately than ever before. The weight of war has been lifted from their shoulders, but in truth, the world is still recovering from the damage and the loss. Three years isn't enough to bounce back completely from such a massive conflict...and many of the people who _fought_ in that conflict are going hungry now. War may be hell, but it's also _profitable_. Losing out on the Land of Fire's military spending has been a hefty setback to our progress. I'm doing everything I can to boost our economy, but it hasn't been enough so far. This tournament isn't just a way of fostering kinship and excitement—it's also a play for more income."

Sasuke's eyes squinted. "But there's no entry fee, no ticket costs...how do you plan on making a profit from it?"

Kakashi nodded to admit the point, but then he explained further. "It's true that we're not charging for the 'games' themselves, but we're planning on attracting a great deal of curious tourists. Wandering merchants, poor families from the outskirts of the nation, rich families from its centers, nobles and politicians, all sorts of parties who are itching for something to see and do. This isn't just an appeal to _ninjas_ , Sasuke. We want this to be a huge event—one that brings a lot of outside money into the village. Food, souvenirs, lodging, _betting_ —everything a visitor purchases while they're here will help to bolster the pockets of our citizens in the end."

The Uchiha got the message, letting out a soft huff of laughter. "The Five Kage are turning shinobi combat into a spectator sport...a _tourist attraction_." Sasuke didn't know exactly how to feel about it just yet, but suddenly his former mentor's insistence on getting him to enter made a lot more sense. "That's why you wanted my participation so badly...and that's why you want me to fight Lee and Naruto as 'main events?' You really _are_ using me as a marketing tool..."

"Does that bother you, Sasuke?" Kakashi didn't hide that truth, nor did he seem to feel any sense of guilt. He felt justified in his actions and their purpose.

"No," Sasuke answered quickly, able to see the benefits and reasoning behind the course of action. "Being used that way doesn't bother me at all—in fact, I can see that it's for the good of the village's people. The only thing that bothers me is the _betting_...with our restrictions in place, do you think that betters are going to believe that Naruto and I can be beaten? The two of us are going to cost a _lot_ of decent people a _lot_ of their savings..."

Kakashi shrugged, closing his eyes and turning his head toward the ceiling. "Maybe you two _can_ be beaten, though," he said insincerely. "Nobody can see the future, right?"

Sasuke twitched above his left eye. "I suppose not..." He shook his head, abandoning the subject. Deciding that he could feel guilty _later_ , he returned to his original purpose: "Enough of that. Have you got payment for me, or were you just giving me the runaround all day yesterday?"

Kakashi chuckled softly. "A bit of both. Between you and me, I promised Naruto and Sakura that I'd do everything I could to keep you in the village. Now, the tournament _is_ a coincidence, but if it keeps you here, then I've already fulfilled my promise." He reached into a drawer, then pulled out an envelope which he nonchalantly tossed through the air to Sasuke, who caught it smoothly. "The village may not be _rich_ right now, but there's still plenty enough to cover our expenses and pay off our standing debts. There's more than enough cash in there for you to find a decent place to sleep...and for you to spend a bit more at other places in the village. Do your part to stimulate the economy."

Sasuke didn't open the envelope to count the payment. Judging by weight alone, he figured that there was more than what his task was worth, but he wasn't going to immediately complain about being overpaid. With his purpose fulfilled, he started to leave, but Kakashi called out to him and stopped his exit: "Since you're already here, there's one more thing I'd like to deal with."

"What is it?" Sasuke responded, eager to remove himself from the room but also willing to hear everything the Hokage had to say.

"Last night, one of our few patrolling ANBU caught sight of something curious in an alleyway. He called for assistance, then he transported a crate of... _goods_...to my office. It was addressed to the academy, as it turns out." Kakashi's black eyes seemed amused, but his mask kept him looking rather serious. "Do you know anything about that?"

Sasuke smirked. "You got my note."

Kakashi nodded. "When the three arrived in the box they were unconscious, but eventually they woke up. When they did, they told Shizune and me that you attacked them in cold blood. They said that you intended to kill them and feed their remains to one of your snakes." The Hokage didn't seem to believe the words even as he spoke them secondhand, but he continued anyway. "Since you've been accused of such a crime, how do you answer the charges?"

Sasuke rolled his eyes. "They were just a few punks who were robbing some kid in the alley. I stepped in to break it up. I gave them plenty of chances to run away, but they weren't having it. Things got messy."

Kakashi nodded. "That's what I thought, but it's my duty to address any trouble that's dropped in my lap—for better or worse. Personally, I believe your side of the story—because frankly, I know how difficult it must have been for you to hold yourself back from _killing_ them. I don't think they know how lucky they are that you're so merciful."

Sasuke hummed. "Well, like you suggested...I thought of them like they were made of paper. Actually no, they were even _weaker_ than that. It was difficult to hold back after seeing what they did, but I managed."

Kakashi gave an affirmative breath. "I'm proud of your restraint. I want to tell you that you have _my_ support and trust, Sasuke...but after this incident, people are probably going to start hearing stories about how you've been terrorizing Konoha's own shinobi in dark alleyways. Are you prepared to deal with the consequences?"

Sasuke scoffed. "I've been dealing with worse than that for years already."

"Noted." That seemed to be the answer Kakashi wanted to hear; something was cooking in the back of his mind, behind the intense depths of his stare. "Now, with that out of the way, what are you going to do with yourself while the tournament is still being set up?" Kakashi inquired, reaching for his pen and starting to write again on a new piece of paper. "I don't imagine you're going to be satisfied with acting as my glorified delivery boy forever, but I don't want you running around as an independent vigilante every night, either."

"I haven't decided what to do, yet. Have you got something in mind for me?" Sasuke pondered. After tucking away his concealed payment, his hand went to clutching the hilt of his sword, though not in a threatening way—it was a habit of his, something he often did while walking a long path to give his fingers something to squeeze.

"Yes, actually. I spent much of last night talking with Shizune, and—" Kakashi was cut off by Sasuke's sudden interjection, and he allowed it to happen:

"Who exactly _is_ Shizune? Why is she always lurking around during important business...?" Sasuke was suspicious of her. A spy, maybe? He knew about the woman's close relationship with Tsunade, the previous Hokage, but that wasn't enough to garner his trust and approval. Though the dark-haired woman tensed in the corner as she was mentioned, she left the question alone as Kakashi spoke for her.

"Shizune is my most trusted aide and advisor, Sasuke. Anything you can say to me, you can also say to _her_." Kakashi gave her a look, even though she was facing away and pretending not to hear. Her ears were red, poking out slightly from beneath the dense layer of black hair that crowned her head. The Hokage tilted his eyes back to Sasuke, and he continued on his earlier train of thought: "As I was saying...I talked with Shizune, and _together_ we came up with an offer that you might want to consider."

Sasuke relaxed his harsh gaze, his shoulders slackening and his body leaning slightly to the side. "I'm listening," he clarified.

"I don't expect your decision right away—in fact, I suggest that you take a long while to think about it." Kakashi turned up a piece of paper with formal language all over it. What it looked like, to the young Uchiha, was an offer of employment. Kakashi verified it with his next statement: "I want to offer you a permanent job within the village. An important one. It's something that I think only _you_ can be trusted to do."

Sasuke picked up the paper, flipping it back and forth to look at the details. The position _was_ an important one...and Sasuke was thankful for the Hokage's suggestion to take plenty of time to think about it. Making a commitment to the tournament had been easy enough, but a permanent job? _That_ job? Sasuke could only imagine the possible consequences for the Hokage's position as a result of such a maneuver: "Are you sure about this?" Sasuke apprehensively asked as he set the offer back onto the desk and slid it toward the village head. Its return wasn't a refusal, only a request for some breathing room.

Kakashi took the paper back and set it into a special folder, one that was labeled 'Sasuke Uchiha.' There were tons of other papers nestled within, most of which probably didn't pertain to _good_ things. Sasuke had a long history of causing numerous issues for the previous Hokage, and then a few more for the current one as well. With the file tucked away and the drawer closed again, Kakashi gave a nod and crossed his arms on his desk. "I'm _absolutely_ sure. I know there are risks, consequences, and issues for you to think about. For yourself, _and_ others. So take all the time you could ever want, and then let me know what you decide. I promise that the offer will stand as long as I'm Hokage. I have faith in you, Sasuke."

Sasuke nodded. He was speechless with yet another dose of conflicted thoughts and tried to remove himself from the office without a vocal reply. His next step was halted as he turned to go, and his blood started pumping strongly to carry a wave of uncertainty all through his system. He managed to get out of the office with his posture intact, but he soon slumped against the curved wall in the nearby hallway. Every hour of his return to Konoha had been one of dichotomy and surprises. He clutched his head as he struggled with his inner concerns. He had been ready for a lot of things, but he wasn't prepared to relive the striking memory, one that he never thought he would face again. He thought back to his dream, to his pondering—he was starting to feel even _more_ like his father, quite suddenly. After all, Sasuke Uchiha _was_ officially the head of his diminished clan, just like Fugaku before him.

And just as it had said plainly within the opening lines of Kakashi's formally-presented job offer, it was customary for the head of the Uchiha Clan to also become the Chief of Konoha's Military Police Force.

* * *

 **I hope you liked it! I'm sick with a cold or something, so if parts of this chapter are kind of incoherent, that's why. It all looks good to _me_ , but my mind is a bit _blah_ today, haha. Also, unless I start getting better when I go to bed tonight, I might take a day or two off of writing so I can get more rest. Either way, it won't be _too_ horribly long before I get the next chapter out. **

**Thanks for reading!**


	13. Amidst the Rubble

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Kakashi was still seated at his desk, and as Sasuke had started to walk out, the Hokage could see the significance of the weight he had just placed on the last Uchiha's shoulders. That heaviness was a good sign. _It means that he **wants** to take the job, even if he doesn't know whether or not he **should** yet. _ After Sasuke's wonky exit, Shizune sprang out of her chair and hurried to the Hokage's side, cupping the side of her mouth and whispering into his ear with urgent curiosity.

"Lord Hokage, not that I'm complaining, but why did you tell him that I had something to do with the offer?" She asked quickly, not doubting his decision at all but overwhelmingly intrigued.

Kakashi glanced to her with a tilt of his head, writing with one hand while the other reached for a new paper to replace the old one. His answer was simple enough. "You _did_ help me make my choice, last night." His voice was even and sincere, though Shizune flexed her lips and didn't seem to appreciate the reply.

"But you told me that you had been wanting to offer the position to him since the moment you took office..." Shizune stood up straight and folded her arms. She wasn't _angry_ about being given some credit, but she was wondering about why the Hokage had given her some importance that she didn't feel she deserved. "I didn't really have anything to do with it."

Kakashi shrugged. "I've been _wanting_ to, but I never _did_. Last night, it was you who suggested that I should finally make the offer, right?"

"Well, sure, but it was still _your_ _idea_..." She admitted her tertiary involvement, but kept her mild confusion plain on her face.

"Sasuke doesn't like you, Shizune. He doesn't _trust_ you at all—but that isn't your fault. He feels the same way toward _everybody_ he meets, at first. Since you've made it clear that you don't really have anything to say in your own defense, _I_ decided to let him know that you respect him. From now on, maybe he won't be so harsh toward you...and there's no harm done either way; I wasn't _really_ lying, after all." Kakashi deftly reached for his cup of coffee, a fresh one that had been prepared a moment before Sasuke's arrival and still steamed at the ideal temperature. He dropped his mask for a lightning-quick sip then pulled it back, aware of the risk of visitors at any moment. "You _do_ think he's the one for the task, right? You weren't just humoring my proposal?"

Shizune slumped her shoulders. "Well, I trust your judgement, Lord Sixth. If you think the job is good for him, then it is. I just don't know if it's good for the _village_. People aren't going to like it if he _does_ pick up the pieces of the Police Force—I think they're going to see him as an adversary."

Kakashi gave a slow nod. "That's true, but they _already_ think he's the enemy. Giving him a role to fill in the village, one that allows him to do good in the _light_ , where people can see it, is exactly what Sasuke needs in order to reintegrate himself into society. It will take time, perhaps _years_ , but eventually the whole of Konoha is going to realize that Sasuke Uchiha _belongs_ here."

Shizune bit the back of one of her knuckles, chewing the slightly-loose skin along the surface. "Maybe...but I think the more difficult part is going to be convincing _Sasuke_ that he belongs here."

Kakashi blew a sigh through the cloth of his mask. "He'll either come around, or he'll disappear. I may have played my hand too early in giving him the offer so quickly, but if today somehow turns out to be his last day in the village, I don't want to have regrets about waiting too _long_."

"You made the right call, as always," Shizune reassured, setting a hand on Kakashi's shoulder and intentionally squeezing against the firm layer of his semi-armored, darkly colored vest. The gesture caught the Hokage's attention, and he stopped working for a moment to look at her. She smiled down at him, then ran her hand to his other shoulder. She unbuttoned the top layer of his heavy vest, getting down to the cloth lining beneath that hugged his form more directly. Both of her hands were then near his neck, and she started to flex and knead her fingers against his stern musculature. "You've been working really hard, sir," she said coyly. "Take a break; let me help you relax."

Kakashi closed his eyes and gave a satisfied murmur. Shizune's little massage was nothing new, but for an odd reason it felt a magnitude more _seductive,_ that time. Maybe she appreciated his efforts with Sasuke even more than he thought she did. "Well...if you insist," Kakashi hummed, leaning back in his chair and reaching for his neglected book, peeling it open to its marked place while his faithful assistant worked the tension out of his shoulders. The pair read the novel together in silence for a while, and it was pleasant. Eventually, another visitor would surely come in. With ears open and attentive, Shizune only hoped that she would actually have the willpower to assume the position and pretend nothing was happening before she was 'caught'.

* * *

Hinata had finished her personal training for the morning. She had torn through a few more wooden dummies, even though she tried to hold herself back a bit. Afterward, as she walked through the village, she was looking down at her own hands, flexing her fingers and doubting the realism of her own strength. She had never felt so _destructive_ before, yet it was a surprisingly _good_ feeling when compared to her earlier lack of confidence. She had beaten Ko without difficulty, just as she had feared, but it had been even easier than she thought it would be. Her body felt stronger than ever, and so she studied her muscles with every twitch as she walked with a purpose toward her destination. Her attention was turned downward, but she weaved through the crowd ahead easily enough by instinct.

Her name was called out by the same familiar voice as the day before—"Oy, Hinata!" she heard shouted over the everyday din of conversation in the streets. Hinata took her attention off of her hands, looking instead toward the source of the outburst.

"Kiba," she said quietly, stopping in her tracks as her teammate squeezed roughly through the gathering of people to force his way closer to her. "What are you doing here?" she cautiously whispered. For some reason, she felt mildly uncomfortable under his attention while he waded his way up to her. She didn't know why she felt uneasy—in truth, she trusted Kiba like a brother, and Akamaru was docile and calm at his back, not even behaving aggressively toward the crowd.

Kiba got close to her after a mighty struggle and a few annoyed looks from people whom he had crossed. He didn't miss a step, and he started talking loudly: "Me and Akamaru have been looking for you all morning. I was hoping that you weren't gonna stay cooped up at home all day again," he started normally. But then, after the normal, he folded his arms and he narrowed his eyes, jutting out his lower jaw and putting on a look of disturbing seriousness. "Sasuke's still in the village, you know...Even right now, I can _smell_ him."

Hinata gulped without meaning to. She felt a chill along her spine when she heard the severity of Kiba's voice. She had known that her comrade had a dislike of Sasuke, but it felt more intense than ever. Where she had once felt a harmless, somewhat-bitter rivalry, what she heard from him instead was bordering on legitimate, unrelenting _hatred_. The Kiba who had resolved to bring Sasuke back as a member of Konoha all those years ago seemed to have vanished. Even during the war, Sasuke's sudden arrival had _annoyed_ Kiba, but his frustration was more about the _attention_ rather than anything else. Hinata asked herself between thumping heartbeats: When did it happen? When did Kiba decide that he wanted Sasuke _dead_?

She realized that she had been outwardly quiet for too long, so she eked out a tiny answer. "Y-yes, I know he's still here..." she said, unable to look her partner in the eyes as she wondered what she could do about the intense feeling of rage wafting off of him. She didn't want to say anything more. She didn't want to cause trouble for Sasuke, nor for herself, by adding too much to the conversation. She actually felt a strong compulsion to defend the Uchiha, to divert Kiba's hatred in some way, but she swallowed it down. Was it fear that held her back?

Kiba snarled somewhat, his eyes turning away from Hinata to look around himself at the crowds of people. "I'll bet he's just looking for his chance to take control of the village...You know, since Naruto's away. What's going to stop him now?" Kiba sniffed his surroundings, and so did Akamaru. He had intercepted Hinata at a pretty suboptimal place in the village, a crowded square where many of the people who had money tended to gather. Aside from trinket shops and restaurants, there were a few under-the-table gambling establishments dotting the open plaza as well. Not exactly a law-abiding region, but a harmless one overall—usually. There was a thickness to the air that day, however—and the tension wasn't all coming from Kiba.

Hinata shook her head. "N-no, Sasuke isn't going to do anything bad like that." She managed to say it with a modicum of confidence, although she wanted to take it back when she caught sight of Kiba's twisting snarl. He wasn't an evil guy, but something was really driving him crazy. "Are you okay, Kiba?" Hinata managed to ask quickly, her words filling the airspace that could have carried her teammate's angry retort.

"I'm fine," he said through clenched fangs, and after swallowing a hard gulp of drool, he shuddered and wiped a hand down his face. Sasuke wasn't there, no matter what his nose was saying to him. He gathered up his usual self after a moment and cleared his throat. "Sorry, Hinata; didn't mean to scare you. I've just been up all night worrying, so I'm not thinking straight."

"Worrying about what?" Hinata asked, able to look at Kiba's face again. The snarl went away, the anger was sucked down. He was still harboring resentment, but he had the decency not to show it to her any further.

"Worrying about _you_ , Hinata!" Kiba snapped his sharp eyes toward her. The concern within the stare was _beyond_ evident. "You've been a wreck for months; I feel like I haven't been able to _talk_ to you since Naruto announced his engagement!" That wasn't all, though. He had more to say, but he seemed to be waiting for Hinata's next move.

She felt scrutinized, and standing in the crowded plaza wasn't doing much to ease her sense of being stifled. She started to walk, hoping to hurry out of the thick populace and find a more suitable place for conversation. She had already noticed a few ears and eyes turning there way when the name Sasuke had come up. Even the people who lived in the village who _weren't_ shinobi knew exactly what that name meant—Sasuke may as well have been another word for _reaper,_ as far as most were concerned. Many couldn't tell the difference between Sasuke, Itachi, Obito, or Madara. They were all just _Uchiha_.

As she walked, Kiba followed, and she didn't mind that. He was her friend, and she liked having Akamaru nearby, as well. She knew that the burly canine would never do anything _too_ vicious, _regardless_ of what Kiba might have wanted him to do. When she stopped, there were still people, but not nearly so many—and Hinata was getting ever-closer to her ultimate destination, which also helped to ease her turmoil. Hinata finally made a reply to Kiba's concern once they were out of the plaza and standing off the side of a less-traveled path. "I've been feeling sad since the engagement," she admitted. "I know I've been distant, but...I think I'm going to be okay. Thank you for worrying about me, but you don't _have_ to."

Kiba reached an arm out, laying his hand on Hinata's head and ruffling up her hair with a wild, older-brother kind of affection. They were the same age, in truth, but he had always been the rowdy one. "Hey, I'm _always_ gonna worry about you. Kurenai-sensei and Shino are worried, too, but they don't want to crowd you." Kiba snickered, smiling like nothing was wrong—and maybe nothing was. Maybe his intensity wasn't as dangerous as Hinata had thought, at first. Or, still, maybe it was: "Anyway...Sasuke came by my house last night, and I could swear he had _your_ scent on him. It was faint, but...I was worried that it might have been _blood_. That's why I've been trying to find you..."

Hinata ducked a bit, trying to escape the affectionate mussing of her hair, but then she froze when she heard Kiba's last few words. Her _scent_ was on Sasuke? She strained her memory, then recalled that she _had_ touched him, however briefly: she had grabbed his hand to drag him deeper into the restaurant the night before. Dazed, she brought her hand up to fix her troubled hair when Kiba's grip left it behind, gulping another lump down her throat and answering his concerns as neutrally as could be. "I'm fine, though...you see that, don't you?"

Kiba scoffed. "Maybe you are right _now_...just promise me that you'll be _careful_ around him, okay? He's not like the rest of us. He doesn't have any kind of _loyalty_ to the village, so we shouldn't _trust_ him."

Hinata firmly bit the inside of her cheek, holding back another instinctive retort. She had so very much that she wanted to say, so many ways to word her disapproval for Kiba's assessment, but at the same time she was stricken with her typical meekness. She was passive, but at least she wasn't shrinking away, so she took it as a marked improvement over the previous days. The night before, she had only narrowly escaped a long torture session of sitting at the lunch table with her team thanks to Hanabi. The next day, the day she was presently living, she wasn't all that worried about the crowd, or about Naruto. There was still a nagging feeling in her heart, and her thoughts would occasionally turn sour when she imagined the wedding, but her primary concern was for the tournament. The tournament, _and_ the man who delivered the information about it.

"I'm not worried about him," Hinata said after another long pause, her hands clenched in front of her hips and her knees tilted inward. She looked like a shy little girl for a moment as she tried to come up with an explanation for her reasoning, and explanation that was better than _'he was kind to me.'_ She settled on something more concrete: "Naruto trusts him, and the Hokage trusted him to deliver the invitations. Maybe he deserves another _chance_. Is it fair to hate him for his past, Kiba?"

Kiba scoffed, abruptly averting his gaze. He looked fed up by Hinata's sweet kindness. "Not everybody deserves another chance. He got _several_ chances to come back home, but instead, he nearly killed Naruto and then vanished with Orochimaru...then, at the Kage Summit, he made things even _worse_ for himself. He attacked _all_ of the villages, and even the samurai...Naruto and the Hokage might trust him after that, but _I_ never will."

"Then _don't_ trust him," Hinata answered, conceding the point. "But please don't cause trouble for him...he's been through a lot."

Kiba squeezed his own arm with a sharp-clawed hand, tension rising at the base of his neck. "We've _all_ been through a lot. And some of what we've been through is entirely _his fault_. Look, Hinata—I _know_ you're not stupid, but sometimes you get caught up in being way too kind to people who haven't earned it. And if there's one person who _doesn't_ deserve your attention, it's Sasuke Uchiha. He made his choice a long time ago—let him live with it. Don't put yourself at risk for _his_ sake."

 _I'm not putting myself at risk,_ she wanted to say, but she honestly wasn't confident enough to put that idea forth. She might have been in danger without knowing it. Instead, she settled for "O-okay, Kiba. Thank you for looking after me." She was playing with a pull-string along the neckline of her jacket, avoiding eye contact as usual. Her other hand was hanging limply until Akamaru seemed to notice; he wandered over from behind Kiba to nudge his enormous head beneath her fingers, plopping down and wagging his tail as she began to pet the luxuriously soft fur. "I'm sorry that I've been avoiding you all. Could you please tell Kurenai-sensei and Shino that I'm doing better, now."

Kiba flexed his nose and looked dissatisfied, but his tone was friendly enough to be disarming. "I'll do that for you, yeah...but they'd probably rather hear it from _you_. I can't give you orders or anything, but if I were you I'd talk to them myself. Everybody's been missing you. Yesterday was the first time you even said a _word_ to any of us, but then you ran off anyhow." Kiba could easily tell that she was in higher spirits as she stood there—she wasn't even making excuses or trying to escape. She was soft-spoken and unsure of herself, but that was _normal_. She _seemed_ normal. "Where were you headed to, anyway?"

Hinata was brushing Akamaru down his back, dragging her nails through his coat and getting a handful of loose hair as a result. He was shedding due to the warming weather. "I need to see the Hokage," she answered to Kiba. "There's something I need to ask him for."

Kiba slanted one brow. "Yeah? What is it?"

Hinata blushed and hid behind a blanket of hair, tilting her head forward. "Just a favor. It's about my place in the tournament."

"You're going to _enter_?" Kiba blurted, quite surprised. "I thought you had given up fighting, since...you know..." he trailed off awkwardly.

Hinata shook her head. "Brother Neji wouldn't want me to give up just because he's not here to train me. He always wanted to make me strong enough to take care of _myself_." She found some confidence, her voice less shaky than it was. "I'm going to enter the tournament because I want to prove that I was _worthy_ of the confidence he placed in me. I want to succeed for _him_."

Kiba gave a nod, clenching both fists and flexing his arms in front of himself, a mock combat stance. " _That's_ the spirit! Who would've guessed that the promise of a good fight was all it took to get you out of your funk, eh?" Kiba slapped Hinata's shoulder enthusiastically. She smiled.

 _That's not_ _ **all**_ _it took_ , she confessed to herself. To Kiba, she nodded. "It's good to have something to look forward to, again...that's all." Akamaru barked at her side, licking the edge of her hand with his enormous tongue. She gave the dog a pat on the head, then she brought her hand up to shake her fingers dry with a quiet laugh. "A-anyway, I should get going," she said, turning to leave right away. "See you later, Kiba!" With a final pat to Akamaru's head, she picked up her pace and scurried off. Kiba allowed her to go with a farewell wave and a scratch of his head. Hinata couldn't allow herself to stay for much longer, lest she start talking about Sasuke again. He had been on her mind a lot; on top of that, during the night before, she had gone through a familiar dream yet again—the eyes were there, staring at her. Looking through her. Assuring her of her own value. Was it the constantly recurring _dream_ that had given her the final boost in confidence that motivated her oncoming decision?

As she pondered, she scaled the heights of the village. Stairs and sidewalks thunked under her feet with every step, and as she drew closer to the Hokage's office, further from her home, she grew even more certain about her choice. She entered the Academy's administrative branch and weaved her way through the halls to find the front door of the Hokage's office. There was a lull in the usual activity—she had planned her visit around the typical lunch break. Her visit was unofficial—what she wanted was a _personal_ favor, in actuality, so it was fine to do it during lunch.

She opened the door, finding it to be unlocked, then peeked inside. Kakashi was reading his novel, and Shizune was seated on the corner of the desk. Common. Hinata stepped in quietly, then cleared her throat. "L-lord Sixth?"

Shizune fidgeted a little. She looked flustered, but Hinata couldn't even begin to guess why. "Oh, Hinata! Good to see you!" the aide said quickly, getting down from the desk and facing the visitor with a respectful bow. "What can I do for you?"

Hinata gave a bow in return, staying near the door as she stated her business. "I'd like to ask for a favor from the Hokage," she said.

Kakashi shut his book slowly. "Come in, Hinata; you should know I'm always willing to help."

The Hyuuga girl nodded appreciatively. "It's about the invitation you sent to my family."

"Go on," Kakashi hummed from beneath his mask, paying close attention.

"My father is going to fill out the applications for himself, Hanabi, and me..." She pursed her lips. "He's going to enter me into the Beginner Tier."

Kakashi flexed his brow. Even _he_ felt that such an entry was a disservice to the young woman's potential. "And I'm guessing that this favor you want has something to do with your entry form?"

Hinata nodded. "Yes. I've tried to reason with Father, but he's very sure of his decision. He thinks I'm too weak for the General Tier, but...he's _wrong_. When the registrations for the Hyuuga Clan arrive, could you please see to it that I am placed in the General Tier, regardless of what the entry form says?" She was defying her father's wishes rather brazenly, though she didn't have a single regret about it. She was doing it for herself, for Neji, and maybe even for Sasuke. Her father was the last person she intended to please or impress. She had long before abandoned any hope of earning his approval.

The Hokage was surprised to hear the resolve in the unassuming Hinata's voice. Everything about her eyes, her mouth, her stance—the message was clear. She meant exactly what she said and she knew precisely what it meant for her to say it. "You do realize that Hiashi won't be happy if I go against what it says on the form, don't you? He would view it as an overreach of my authority." Kakashi took a diplomatic position, though that wasn't the end of it. " _But_...if I were to somehow give you the chance to _alter_ the form, in your very own handwriting, then there would be no issues from an organizational standpoint. The responsibility would rest entirely on _you_ , but the form's legitimacy would be impossible to deny."

Hinata gave a determined nod. "I understand. I know it seems underhanded, and I'm probably going to get myself into trouble...but he won't listen to me, even if I beg, and I _know_ I can do better than he thinks."

Kakashi gave a surprising nod, and his response made Hinata's eyes water slightly with a sense of pride. "You're right, Hinata. Your decision _is_ going to cause trouble, certainly, but the fact that you're willing to disobey him is _proof_ that you possess strength that he refuses to see. If defying him is what it takes, then so be it. I'll let you know when the forms arrive, and I'll give you a chance to change your entry as you see fit. Just keep it quiet; if he finds out about our little stunt before the paperwork is filed, it may be difficult to secure your position. Your father has a lot of clout in the village." Kakashi held up one finger. "Once the final roster has been shared with the other villages, however, his ability to change it will become _substantially_ softer. You have my support, and I know you'll also have the support of many others. Eventually, your father will come to realize that he was wrong to try to hold you back."

Hinata nodded. Yes, her father _was_ wrong. She knew better than to listen to his casual dismissal of her abilities. "Thank you, Lord Sixth," she whispered, giving another bow. "And I'm sorry to have interrupted your break." She added the last just in case, since she had seen the book in his hand.

Kakashi waved a dismissive hand. "Don't worry about interruptions. After all, I'd say that I actually _owe_ you a favor because of what you did for Sasuke. Having that reservation in my hand was actually enough to keep him out of trouble...for a _while_ , at least."

Hinata blushed as she was once again forced to think about Sasuke. "I only wanted to make sure that he felt welcome, since Naruto said he was _definitely_ going to be there." But was that _all_? Hinata began to wonder—did it make sense for her feelings to have been so suddenly shifted around based on _just_ the past two days? Was her concern for Sasuke based _entirely_ on Naruto's opinion? She didn't know for sure anymore—the past and present were blending together uncomfortably, and she retroactively began to think that perhaps she had her _own_ reasons for wanting Sasuke to feel welcome. Perishing the thought, she shook her head clear. "Thank you again," she said. "I'll leave you to your business." Gaining the Hokage's approval was only _one_ part of her plan—the other part was probably going to be riskier.

As she left, Kakashi spoke to her one more time: "I'll let you know when the forms arrive. Until then, take care of yourself—and try to stay out of dark alleys."

* * *

Rubble in every direction; dilapidated, obliterated, somber rubble. Sasuke found himself amidst the ruins of the district that used to be his home, and although it was crumbled and flattened—both from age and from the shockwave that turned the village into a crater—he recognized the layout well. "Home," he said with reverence, finding the collapsed foundations that used to be the base of his very own childhood house. He used to eat breakfast there; he used to lick his wounds, there. His mother, father, and brother had all treated him and one another like _family_ there.

It was hard to tell one building apart from the next, on the surface. Not only was the rubble of various other structures burying his home, but the layout of the ground had been displaced in the upheaval, creating a procession of jagged slopes along the cracked streets. Nothing was identical, yet everything was the same. Sasuke found himself wading into the depths of sandy rock, red bricks, and massive chunks of metal that had all once gone into the construction of his house. He was digging—searching. There was something important, there—something which had been lost for over a decade. It finally had an occasion to be found.

The sun was past noon, getting closer to one-o'clock, and Sasuke felt the heat of the light on his back as he tossed weight left and right, clawing at the rubble and getting perpetually deeper. There were so many places where it could have gotten to, so many things that could have _ruined_ it. He didn't know if it was worth the effort; even if he found what he was looking for, could it have possibly even been of use to him?

Seeing the words written on Kakashi's job offer had ignited his memory, and he recalled the long-abandoned enthusiasm of his childhood. As he dug through foot upon foot of plaster, cloth, stone, paper, and steel, he got closer and closer to his destination. He recognized bits and pieces of his past—a broken plate that he had once eaten off of, fragments of a ruined door that had once lead into his room. He had created a tunnel of sorts through the debris until he found the first sign of his goal: one of his mother's shirts. He pulled the brown, long-sleeved blouse from the gray crumbles of ruins that surrounded it. He shook the cloth out, then laid it tenderly aside where he crouched down. His excavating reach began to go deeper.

He found the dresser, a sturdy oak box that was still mostly intact, though it was buried from top to bottom and lying on its side. Sasuke carefully cleared the heavy wooden armoire of the surrounding contaminants, noting that the doors were still closed. He tilted the angled frame upright with the slow turn of his strong arm, letting go once he felt the balance teeter over to rest as it should have rested. Lopsided, still, because of the curvature of the ground beneath, but stable enough and mostly upright. Sasuke stood, feeling hesitation slow him down as he clasped the knob on the right-side door; the knob on the left was gone, lost someplace amidst the destruction. There were splinters and cracks all along the box, but it stood as tall as Sasuke and twice as wide. It was built to last.

He opened the medium-sized door on the front of the dark wooden case, and he expected to see his intended prize laid out like it had _always_ been, pressed and hanging from a hook inside the main chamber of the armoire, practically glowing with importance. His wishful thinking was replaced with the sting of reality, and the case initially appeared empty. The item he was looking for had fallen off its hanger and become a crumpled heap in the bottom corner of the chamber. Sasuke reached his hand down to retrieve it, a bundle of dark blue cloth that was accompanied by a separate vest, green like typical jonin attire. He picked up the top half, laying it out against a flat slab of concrete to his left. He affectionately spread out the sleeves and flattened the cloth, allowing it to bask in the sun for perhaps the first time in over ten years. Upon the shoulder, there was a symbol—it was a four-pointed star colored ocean-green, and at the center was the red and white fan emblem of the Uchiha clan.

Suddenly, Sasuke was six years old again and being carried against the shoulders and back of his older brother. He was looking at the old Military Police Force building, questioning why his clan's symbol was at its center. He learned that the Uchiha Clan was traditionally given the role of peacekeepers in Konoha, and at that point, Sasuke had made a declaration: _"When I grow up...I'll join the Police Force too!"_ A lifetime ago, he had announced that plan.

No matter how far Sasuke had run, no matter how deep he had fallen into darkness, on that day beneath the afternoon sun more than a decade later, he had to wonder if fate itself had ordained for him to be there. He had somehow come full circle despite the impossible odds. Staring at his father's old policeman's uniform, Sasuke was recalling his own self, his chipper, enthusiastic _childhood_ self who would have desperately begged him to give his own present self another chance. Sasuke ran his fingers over the cloth uniform; it was covered in soot, wrinkles, and stiffness from having been clumped into the corner, but it was still largely intact. There were numerous stitches loose, holes torn open, and stains upon the fabric—but it was all superficial. It could be repaired, just like _he_ could be repaired. The difficult part of the task was going to be taking the first step.

Sasuke was lost in his past, replaying his youthful ambitiousness over and over again in his head. _I'll join the Police Force too!_ At the time, he had been proud of his lineage, proud of his father and of his brother. Years later, standing in the ruins of what his clan had once been, a single tear coalesced at the bottom of his right eye, then fell silently onto the uniform that his father had once so confidently filled out. In his earliest years, Sasuke had seen his father as an indomitable giant, a thousand feet tall and indestructible—seeing the clothing he once wore, seeing the ragged state of the material, Sasuke understood that his father had been nothing but a mortal man. The hardy pillar of the clan had been cursed with emotions, fears, hopes, love, hate, and all the other things that made up a flawed human being. And he was gone. Nothing could feasibly bring him back. Sasuke reminded himself of what that meant: _I'm the last piece of him that's left in this world. My father, Fugaku Uchiha, as well as my mother, Mikoto, and brother, Itachi, all live on through me and me_ _ **alone**_ _. It's my duty to serve my family name, my duty to restore its honor...so maybe it's my duty to take on the role of Police Chief._

Distracted by his own thoughts, Sasuke didn't realize that he was being watched until a small sound of clattering rubble reached his ears. His hand moved to the hilt of his sword, his thumb pressed against the edge guard to free the silvery sharpness an inch from its scabbard. Once the blade was loosed, Sasuke was on his feet and the sword was halfway free of its sheathe, guided by a deft hand. He was ready to slash the intruder on the spot. Since his initial arrival in Konoha, he had been feeling the sense that he was the village's _opponent_ , a frequent _target_. He would be damned if he allowed one of his enemies to get the drop on him, and so his reaction to a snoop was a bit _intense_. His sword was almost free of its resting place by the time he saw the face of the person who had come and ceased in his tracks.

"Oh, it's just you..." Sasuke said calmly, sliding the blade back into its home with a quiet click as if nothing had happened. "Don't sneak up on me like that."

Hinata was frozen with fear; she had fallen down onto her rump while trying to back-step when Sasuke began to pull his sword. She could feel killing intent from him for a moment, a strong willingness to end her life. She was panting, her hands on her chest and her eyes closed tight. Had she almost died there? Was Sasuke as dangerous as Kiba had warned her of? Possibly...but he had stopped himself so quickly. There was also a glistening trail down the side of Sasuke's right cheek—he had probably been crying. Hinata realized that his reaction was _her_ fault; she had come at a very bad time. Hinata took a deep breath, then coughed at the end of it. She was going to stand quietly, then turn to leave—she didn't belong there. But when she opened her eyes carefully, she saw a hand in front of her face, open and inviting.

"Sorry about that...I wasn't expecting anyone." Sasuke murmured above her, blocking out the sun with an earnest apology on his lips.

Hinata tensed her mouth shut while she looked to his hand; it was a welcoming, calloused palm with thick fingers and overwhelming power. She hesitated, but her own hand gradually lifted up to grasp his, and she felt herself pulled onto her feet in an instant, like she had no weight at all. She was steady on her feet but light in her head when she looked at Sasuke. He was standing close to her, and she could plainly see the harshness still in his eyes—but it wasn't harshness meant for _her_. His pain wasn't her fault, so it didn't _belong_ to her, but she still somehow felt it being transferred her way. She managed to speak through a dry throat: "I know I shouldn't have snuck up on you, but...I didn't want you to see me."

Sasuke kept his hand around hers after helping her to stand. It felt so frail, yet he knew that there was power inside her, all the same. She had two very different sides to her, strong yet meek, just as she always had—though Sasuke pretended not to notice her, and he _had_ forgotten her name for a time, he _did_ remember her from the Academy. A Hyuuga, a natural-born wielder of a powerful eye, and a girl with a certain degree of loveliness, even as a small child. Sasuke had seen her a few times, but rarely uttered a word in her direction—but always, _always_ had he known that fate had good things in store for her. At the time of their graduation, she was the heiress of her entire clan, but during Sasuke's absence things had seemingly changed. Still, the potential existed, and Sasuke squeezed his hand around hers to feel it. "How did you know I was here?" Sasuke pondered, but an easy answer clicked for him when he saw Hinata's Byakugan eyes looking up into his face. "Oh...dumb question, huh?" He cleared his throat. She made him feel flustered again just like _that_.

Hinata smiled softly at the way his hand squeezed hers. She hadn't felt such a firm reassurance since Naruto had given her the same kind of squeeze after she lost Neji. There was an impossible strength within that hand, and also behind the plain darkness of Sasuke's inactive eyes—Hinata knew what those dull globes could become, and she suddenly knew someplace inside of herself that _his_ eyes were the ones from her frequent dreams. What she didn't understand, however, is why she had been having the dreams since _before_ the wedding night. It wasn't always Naruto's imagined harshness that she had been running away from, but there was always _something_ to fear—her dreams had traditionally been about frightening things, the things that she was most worried about. It wasn't _every_ time that the dream ended with eyes, but it _did_ happen. A pair of red eyes, eyes that should have _terrified_ her but eased her mind instead. For a long time, she believed that they were Kurenai's. The irises were similar enough between the two that a dream could have missed a few details; it had never occurred to her until just that moment that the gaze from her dream could have belonged to Sasuke's Sharingan all along.

"Hi, Sasuke," Hinata said quietly, letting her hand melt inside of his. After a long moment of silence, the man was the one to loosen the grip and pull their hands apart from one another, and Hinata allowed him to step back and catch his breath before she spoke again. "T-there's something I'd like to talk to you about...if that's alright..."

Sasuke ran a hand down his own cheek, clearing the remnants of his tears. He didn't like to be caught crying, but he supposed that it was only fair given how he had seen Hinata crying _twice_ already. "Go ahead," he authorized plainly. He stood in front of his father's old uniform with his back to it, leaving it strewn in a couple of pieces along the debris and baking in the sun.

Hinata summoned up the courage and started from what seemed like the beginning. "S-so...I'm going to enter the General Tier of the tournament, like you suggested...but my father won't be available to give me any training." She slowed down halfway through her sentence, suddenly worried about springing her request onto Sasuke. What if he was offended somehow? "Y-you're the strongest person in the village right now, and...w-well, I also had a good time talking to you yesterday. A-and you said I have _potential_ , r-right?" Still beating around the bush, nervous like a tiny bird. Sasuke was looking at her with an intensity that urged her to keep going, yet it also seized her up whenever she thought to open her mouth. "W-what I mean to ask, is..." She trailed away; it was hopeless.

Sasuke came to her rescue in classic, no-nonsense fashion: "You want _me_ to train you. If so, I'm willing to do it, Hinata," he offered, easing her burden. Whether he knew that it was going to be her request or not, training her was something that he _was_ willing to attempt, and he wanted to make his intentions known. His folly in the past had always been in trying too hard to keep secrets—to hide his emotions when they wanted to be heard. And he _did_ want to train her, for so _many_ different reasons. "Is that what you wanted to ask me about?"

Hinata turned her pale cheeks red again, feeling like she had been opened like a book and had all of her pages turned. She felt faint again, and she busied her hands with sliding over her stomach to straighten out her jacket, relieving the crumples it had obtained during her earlier stumble. "Y-yes. Are you sure...?"

Sasuke gave a nod. _Was_ he sure? Not entirely. But Kakashi had a point—Sasuke had nothing planned for the following days, and so he sought to fill his own life with purpose again. He needed to have _some_ connection to the village, at least until he decided whether or not he was going to take the job that was offered to him, or even if he was going to remain in the village at _all_ once the promised two weeks had gone by. Sasuke looked over his shoulder at his father's crusty old uniform—once it was properly washed, it would have fit the last living Uchiha almost perfectly. With a bit of sewing and a few patches, it could even have been in near-flawless condition again. Sasuke put his focus on Hinata. "I'm sure that I want to _try_...but are _you_ willing to try?"

Hinata felt a jittering in her stomach, nerves still rattled from the way Sasuke had drawn his sword, plus the overlap with her elated surprise of being offered his training. It was an odd combination, pleasurable yet stunningly tense. "I'll try my very best, Sasuke," she put forth confidently. There was a steely certainty in her pale eyes, and Sasuke decided to put her resolve to the test.

"Good...then we'll start _immediately_." Sasuke's sword was out of its scabbard in the span of a lightning flash. Without warning and before Hinata could even gasp, Sasuke was aiming for her throat with a broad slash of his glinting blade.

* * *

 **Uh oh. I hope Hinata didn't get in over her head with this one. As always, thank you all for your support. Every ounce of interest I've gotten so far has made me very happy! Expect the next chapter soon.**


	14. The First Lesson

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Sasuke's first swing was a lazy one. He was watching his target with ponderous eyes—how would Hinata react? The tip of the blade, the sharpest piece of a long strip of refined metal, swiped through the air in a sweeping arch. Sasuke saw Hinata's head instinctively jerk backward, but her hair was left behind by the momentum—a few dark strands were clipped by the sword, the feathery tips separated from her head with a simple slice. Then he heard her gasp, the shrieking panic from the mouth of his unprepared 'opponent'.

Hinata stumbled backward, but she didn't fall—it was good that she didn't fall; _promising_ , that is. Sasuke was quite _glad_ that she didn't fall; it proved that she had potential. The thugs in the alley? They had each fallen right away. Sasuke went after her again with a second swing, watching her body contort in a terrified dance. Even as Sasuke held back immensely and presented the slowest of swings, he was still pushing the girl to her imagined limits. Here and there, the slashes caught fabric and hair, and upon the final swing of his initial volley, he easily stopped the blade against the surface of Hinata's fleshy throat—the steel was cold and solid, the blade so sharp that a hair's breadth of movement could have caused a cut into her neck.

Sasuke was stopped entirely, and so was _she_ —the flurry of movement was already over after only a few brief practice swings. Hinata was panting, her body arched back; Sasuke's arm was extended forward to keep the tip of his weapon pressed to her throat dangerously. Frozen but gasping, Hinata was an interesting sight to see. Sasuke felt no guilt, despite the terror in Hinata's eyes—during their shared dinner, _he_ had been the one to feel vulnerable and weak against her gaze. Combat, however, was _his_ home territory. The girl with the beautiful eyes and quiet voice couldn't hold him back during _battle_. "Not bad..." Sasuke said at last, allowing the moment of stillness to simmer for a longer while. He drew the sword back from the smooth, pale throat of his suddenly-acquired student, then turned the blade back to its sheathe and slipped it inside with a sliding metallic groan. "But not good, either. You're rusty."

Hinata's chest was rising and falling in quick cycles, inadvertently showing off that she had become quite a developed woman, even through her jacket. She looked down at herself to assess the damage, seeing rips and cuts in her favorite garment, then she frowned toward Sasuke. "I-I wasn't ready," she said in her own defense, and while it was true she that she had been caught off guard, she inwardly seemed to think that it wouldn't have made a difference _how_ ready she was.

"Ready or not, Hinata, your opponent is going to search for your weaknesses at all times. Let's go again." On the spot, Sasuke's blade was drawn a second time and he began another volley of practice swings. He was attentive to his reach—he was sure to only ever risk _grazing_ her. He restricted himself to catching a strand of hair, or knicking a tiny hole in her loose jacket. He made a game of it; how many times could he allow the girl to feel the wind of his blade against her skin without also allowing the razor-like gusts to cut her? He was smirking as he went after her, pushing her back through the rubble of his ruined homeland. Eventually, as Hinata was being forced back, her feet lost stability and a chunk of rubble rolled out from beneath her, sending her backward. Sasuke watched carefully—would she let herself fall that time?

Hinata struggled with her balance, but the terrain was too uneven—the follow-up places her feet landed upon gave way just as easily as the first, and although she made a valiant effort, she eventually succumbed to the disjointed ground and hit the surface with the left of her hip. Sasuke took quick advantage of the opening and once again pressed his sword against her throat, nudging her backward until she was flat on her back with her arms helplessly spread. Sasuke chuckled once, his smirk plain on his mouth. "What do you think is my advantage over you, Hinata?"

She panted, extremely careful of her neck as she felt the tiniest touch of metal against a vital vein. Sasuke obviously took his training _very_ seriously, and even though Hinata was _scared_ out of her mind, she was also _thankful_ for the intensity he had already shown her. With Ko, she had always felt like she was being babied, even _before_ she had become stronger than he was. Even Neji had always held back a lot of his strength for her sake; she was often treated as fragile and weak, which dampened her ability to become strong. Weakness without adversity had a tendency to _remain_ weak.

"What is my advantage, Hinata?" Sasuke repeated, pushing the tip of his blade closer. Hinata was leaning back as hard as she could. If she let up at all, her head would have been pushed up by the condensed rubble to slide her neck into the sharp sword, which would have possibly opened her skin to a flow of redness. Although Sasuke's reflexes could have probably allowed him to pull back if such a thing were to happen, Hinata was in no position to trust that assumption. And so she treated him like he was going to kill her if she made a single mistake, cowering on the ground as he pressed her further with his words: " _Name my advantage_."

"Y-you're just _stronger_ than me, Sasuke," she whimpered out, careful of how her throat moved.

"No, that's not it. Right now I have something very specific that gives me power over you...give it a _name_." Sasuke tightened his grip on the handle of his weapon.

"I-is it y-your sword?" Hinata struggled, her hands gripping the ground beneath her and squeezing along a few loose rocks.

Sasuke gave a smirk; he seemed to approve of her attempt, though there may have been more to it. "That's a decent guess. My sword gives me _reach_ ; it allows me to cut you effortlessly. With that in mind, if you want to overcome me, then you'll need to overcome my advantages one at a time. First, remove the most _crucial_ advantage."

"H-how?" Hinata squeaked, ever-wary of breathing a little bit too hard against the blade. Her whole body was weighted despite only her neck being pressed.

"Figure something out." Sasuke said in a monotone as he pulled his sword away from Hinata's neck. The freed girl gasped and shuddered. She looked like she was already regretting her choice to ask for training, but Sasuke could also see deeper. Past the regret, past the fear—she wasn't turning to run, she wasn't begging for him to hold back. Not yet, anyway. Her resolve was admirable, whether it proved to last much longer, or not. "Stand up. I'm going to come again. We're going to keep this up until you can remove an advantage from me, or until the sun goes down."

Hinata did as she was told and shakily began to stand. Again, she looked at her jacket and lamented the rips and openings in the material, plus the thickening layer of dust that had been kicked up by her falls against the broken rubble; the dirt was starting to gather on her clothes. The training field they were using was rather hazardous; chunks of sharp, twisted metal were poking up from the ruins and every step had the risk of collapsing the floor beneath her feet. She was gripping small stones in each hand and hadn't even realized it in her tension. When she at last stood up, her hands were still holding them tightly as if they could protect her. "Y-yes, Sasuke," she said with faux intensity. Her exterior had calmed, but her mind was shaking like a kite in a strong breeze. She raised her arms and took up a fighting stance. This time she told herself she was ready.

A few bright flashes of a sword later and she was beaten for a third time, staring up the length of an immaculately-forged blade from the ground, feeling its sting on her neckline just as before. Her former confidence was drained and her body was trembling just like her thoughts. _He's not even trying,_ Hinata lamented as she gazed up at the cold, collected stare of her trainer. Her hands were useless again, her body timidly turned to stone by that single, pinpoint spot of contact. Again, the sword was pulled away and she was given a moment to collect herself.

Sasuke was unimpressed on the top layer, but beneath that he was glad to see that he was correct in his assumption. She _did_ have potential—the problem was that she was _scared_ , and the fear held her back even further than the Hyuuga girl herself could ever have realized. Sasuke put away his sword, declaring a momentary halt in their practice. "Hinata, sit down and take a breather," he instructed as he stood firm. The student gave a nod, breathing hard and falling harshly to the rocky debris beneath her. She kicked up a ring of gray smoke when she collapsed, her body swelling to take deep, solid breaths to keep herself from passing out. Sasuke stepped nearer to her and dipped down, bending his knees and balancing on the fronts of his feet. He laid an arm over his knee and steadied his head. "Are you afraid of me?" He looked into her.

Hinata was hesitant, but after a moment she gave a frightened little nod of her head. "Y-yes..." she admitted, though she didn't want to. She had thought about lying, but she had gotten a distinct sense that she couldn't have done so even if she tried.

" _Why_ do I scare you, Hinata?" He asked further, keeping the same look on his face. Cold, stern, unimpressed.

"Because..." Hinata gulped down a lump in her throat. "Because of how easily you could kill me, if you wanted to." A nervous hand was playing with a string on her jacket, then she also played with the zipper. Her eyes were turned from Sasuke, finding the scattered plaster and pebbles to be soothing by comparison to the harsh stare.

"I'm _not_ going to kill you, Hinata," he said with the typical coolness of his personality. It was hard to judge his sincerity on the surface, but he meant every word. "But _others_ might want to. Don't let yourself be cripplingly _afraid_ , but don't let your guard down either. Fear is dangerous, but so is _fearlessness_. A person's fears need to be balanced, otherwise mistakes are made; being too cowardly or too bold can each lead to bad things. You know that already, don't you?"

Hinata thought back to the moment of fearlessness that had nearly gotten her killed against Pain. Her left side hurt again, and she didn't know whether it was genuine physical pain or a psychological sensation. "I do, yes...I know that." She was catching her breath at last, and she allowed herself to look at Sasuke; she tried mightily to feel no fear of him—but it was always there, always tickling the sides of her nose. The sensation that he was a killer, or a monster; the knowledge that he was the terrifying final member of a legendarily evil clan. But despite everything her instincts told her, despite every clue and tidbit given to her by friends, family, and strangers alike, despite what she knew of his gruesome history, she _still_ didn't think Sasuke was a bad person. "I'm glad that you're willing to help me...but why? Aren't you too strong to bother with someone like me?"

Sasuke gave a hmph, looking off to his side, then over his shoulder at the splayed uniform he had left behind. "Strength doesn't make me any better than the people around me. Nor does weakness make a person like you useless...Strength can be misused, and weakness can be overcome. The physical body is far from the most important thing when determining strength, anyway...Naruto was a weak kid at first; no talent at all...but he did incredible things even before he became as powerful as he is now. No matter how many times he was beaten down, or told to give it up, he was determined to fulfill his dreams." Sasuke then turned back toward Hinata with a piercing gaze. "What's _your_ dream, Hinata? What is there to gain by training with me? If your reason is to win the tournament, then what do you want to _prove_ by winning it?"

Hinata was propped back on her arms, shaky and quiet. She thought about the question, and she felt like any answer she could have given was going to be a dishonest one. Was it to prove her father wrong? No. Not at all. She was honestly _over_ her father's disapproval; it was a constant thing in her life, not one worth struggling against. She had proven already, earlier that same day, that she didn't care about what Hiashi Hyuuga thought of her. Was it for Neji? Perhaps in a way, but not entirely. She wanted to prove herself worthy of his confidence, but at the same time she knew she had already proven herself to him during the war. She was strong then, and strong _now_. Did she want to live up to Sasuke's assurances? To prove that if she applied herself, she could be as strong as _he_ thought she could? No. As fine as that would have been to say, it was just another dishonest cop-out. She found the real reason buried beneath nervous withholdings, but she stopped herself from saying it. And yet, when she tried to give a glossy, determined falsehood, she felt her throat dry up. Why couldn't she ever bring herself to lie to the dark-haired man about such personal questions?

Hinata swallowed worried saliva and rolled her tongue along the fronts of her teeth before answering truthfully: "I want Naruto to admire me. I want him to say _good job_. I want to be strong in _his_ eyes, and I want him to know that I can be strong _for_ him if he ever needs me..."

Sasuke perked a brow. On some level, he understood, but on another he felt the need to talk some sense into her fantasy. "Naruto is a one man army, now. No offense, but I don't think he's going to find himself relying on your combat strength any time soon."

Hinata shrugged her soft shoulders, leaning her head over to brush her cheek against the fluffy hood of her jacket. The way she tilted had her looking to the ground again. "I know, but...if he sees that I'm still strong, he might realize that he can come to me if he ever _wants_ to. He's a one man army, but...he still might get lonely, or sad, or worried...I just want him to remember that I exist in case he _does_ need somebody."

Sasuke sighed to himself, brushing his hand down his face and closing his eyes. It was his turn to collapse into the rubble, seating himself haphazardly amongst the dusty rocks. He felt some of the wind taken out of him—he had been doing a good job of making himself ignore the pain and irritation, but Hinata's wishful thinking had gotten him following the same stinging train of thought. "Yeah, well...it's good that you don't want him to get lonely, but he's got _Sakura_ , now. The two of them are off together on their honeymoon. They're married, they're in love, and they don't _need_ anybody else. Not you, nor me. They're probably touching noses and whispering romanticisms into one another's ears as we speak..." Sasuke then found himself smirking, his imagination wandering. "Or maybe they're not. Maybe they're _arguing_ about something; say, maybe Sakura's sick of eating ramen for breakfast, lunch, and dinner..."

Hinata caught herself smiling softly, too, as she pictured the simple conflict that might have been brewing. She was starting to draw little lines in the dust around her thighs as she pondered. "But you heard her...she promised in her _vows_ that she would feed him ramen, right?" She peeked over at Sasuke through a part in her drooping hair, wondering if he would smile or frown at the mention.

It was a frown, but then it morphed to a neutral kind of positivity—the new look was definitely not a _frown_ for long, though it never became a smile, either. Still, there was an unspoken satisfaction in his eyes, a little bit of humorous acknowledgment peering through. "Maybe...but that was only on _Thursdays_. Right now, it's Monday. Naruto can be a surprisingly stubborn _brat_ , but Sakura is probably the only person alive who will _never_ let him get away with it..." Sasuke imagined Naruto sitting in a dining chair with a lump on his head, throbbing and red; the lump was left over from an argument with his new wife over where to eat dinner. Naruto would have probably insisted on ramen, and Sakura would have wanted to try something fancy; Naruto would have put up a fight, but he would have ultimately found himself eating whatever Sakura wanted. "Sakura Haruno is strong in every way," Sasuke said into the wind, then furrowed his brow and corrected himself. "Though, I suppose she's Sakura _Uzumaki_ now."

"Yes," Hinata said in response, though Sasuke's comment wasn't initially pointed to her. "Sakura's a strong person, just like Naruto...and also like you. The Sixth Hokage must be so _proud_ to know that you were all a part of his old team..."

"Sometimes I _wonder_ about that, Hinata." Sasuke let it slip. He was doing it _again_ —the confessions came so easily when that girl's ears were open to him that he failed to realize his own words as they manifested. He was saying things that he had never said to _anybody._ The girl whose name he had barely remembered was able to pry his shell apart so quickly, so _easily_. She didn't even seem to understand how difficult a task it _should_ have been to see into him, and she smiled so harmlessly when he spoke his secret thoughts. Sasuke felt that he _should_ have been more guarded, but he simply wasn't. "I _wonder_ if Kakashi is proud of me. Maybe, in spite of everything, he would have preferred it if I had died during my attack on the Kage Summit, or maybe he would have been happy if Naruto had been able to kill me someplace else."

"I don't believe that," Hinata said without really knowing for sure. She didn't know the Sixth Hokage like Sasuke did, though her conversations with him always gave her a warm sensation. "Do you regret making the attack on the summit, Sasuke?" Hinata asked, curling her knees up and resting her chin on the combined platform of both legs.

"I regret a lot of things," Sasuke answered somewhat cryptically. "But there's no time to worry about those things now. We're supposed to be _training_ , and you've got a long way to go." He stood himself up rather abruptly, doing the only thing he _could_ do to protect himself from spilling his own guts to her. Hinata was so beautiful, so innocent, and so well-meaning—there were so many good things about her that he couldn't _begin_ to ignore. She unintentionally compelled him to answer every concern she had...unless, of course, he was actively swinging a deadly sword at her. And so he drew his weapon and quickly slashed it toward Hinata yet again to clear his head. Combat was something—perhaps the _only_ thing—that Sasuke could take lasting comfort in.

* * *

Hours passed, and the sun was quickly shifting out of its position to dip behind the horizon. The sky began to turn to the initial phases of orange and indigo, and the lighting across their isolated, ruined part of the village was starting to dim to the point of being difficult to see through. It hardly bothered Sasuke, with eyes so keen that nothing could deter his perfect sight—Hinata, however, was losing her touch despite the incredible visual acuity of her _own_ special eyes. Sasuke was still rushing her down with testing sword swings on the regular, consistently careful to avoid hurting her even when she made a misstep. To the teacher, it was all a dance—he needed to rehearse the moves with his partner until the rhythm could be found. He held himself back on an immeasurable scale, yet he was perfectly tuned to her capabilities, just narrowly surpassing what he thought she was capable of. "You're slowing down," Sasuke commented on the tail end of yet another skirmish. He still held his sword tight, and for the fortieth time that day he was pinning the girl down on her back with just the very tip of his blade on her collar.

"I'm getting tired," Hinata said strenuously to answer him; she was panting hard, her body near its limit as sweat ran mercilessly down her forehead, cheeks, and neckline. Her hair was caked with dust and her fingernails were filthy from grabbing loose gravel and dirt time and time again. Once the sword was taken off of her throat, she rubbed her neck and felt how hot her skin had become. The sun was going down, so the air was growing ever-so-slightly cooler, and yet she continued to get _warmer_. She stood, finally deciding that her jacket was no good for their sparring.

The cloth had been knicked and rumpled more times than she could count during the lengthy training session. She brought her hand up to the zipper, slowly drawing it down as the uncomfortable weakness of her muscles nearly stopped her. Eventually, she split the lavender-and-white garment down the middle and shrugged it off of her shoulders, revealing the plain white top without sleeves that lurked beneath. She had no reason to wear the heavy, chain-mesh underlayer that she once had—the cotton tank top was enough.

Sasuke watched the outer layer come away, and he took a second to hold his breath and prevent his gut reaction. As Hinata's arms came free from wrist to shoulder and her neckline dipped a bit lower than he was used to, Sasuke was again taken aback by admiration of her undeniable attractiveness. He may not have been worn out from _activity_ —not the same way Hinata was—but he was beginning to sweat along his forehead all the same. He talked quickly, trying to avoid letting his mouth hang uselessly open in stunned silence. "If you're too tired to be at your best, then there's not much else we can do tonight." He was starting to sheathe his sword, but he paused when the exhausted young woman answered him in puzzlement.

"To _night_...?" Hinata started like she was confused, but then she looked to the sky and realized how much time had passed. "Oh, it's so _late_ already..." she muttered, wiping her arm across her head and untangling her hair with slender fingers. Whipping winds and a dozen sword-slashes had made the cut of her hair uneven; she would probably need to restyle it later on. She felt along the frizzing, deep blue threads and frowned at just how badly the near-misses of Sasuke's sword had ruined her locks. Still, despite all the wear and tear from inside to outside, Hinata wasn't _quite_ ready to give up. She shakily stood, her legs feeling unreliable as she found footing on loose rubble. It hadn't really stricken her, yet, that they were training in the harsh ruins of the Uchiha district. On some level she recognized the location, but the implications were lost on her. "It's so late," she started a second time, now bringing her arms up to ready herself for combat again. "But I still haven't gotten the sword out of your hand. Give me _one_ more try."

Sasuke gave a shrug of both shoulders, reaching his arm out to extend his sword, holding it level with the ground. He looked down the narrow shaft of the weapon, gazing upon Hinata at the end of its reach. As he watched her, she was clearly unable to see straight—her Byakugan had been used a lot already, and the limit of her endurance had been reached more than an hour earlier. Still, she persisted. Sasuke applauded her determination in the depths of his mind, but outwardly he put on a display as the unfeeling demon that needed to be conquered. An early audition for the part he was to play for the tournament. "One more try...but are you sure that it's the _sword_ you need to be focusing on?" Sasuke asked her offhandedly.

Hinata paused. She had been preparing to charge, but the question stopped her flat. "Didn't you _say_ that the sword was your advantage...?"

Sasuke hummed. "I said that it was a _good_ _guess_ , but I never said it was the _correct_ guess. My blade _is_ an advantage, but it's not the most crucial advantage I have."

"Then what is it...?" Hinata questioned, her stance relaxing slightly as she let the uncertainty wash over her. She ran a hand down an arm, wiping up the sweat that had gathered and flicking it onto the ground. She looked to her discarded jacket and frowned toward the cuts through its surface. There were more than she expected. "What's your best advantage, Sasuke?"

Sasuke looked at her, and looked at her _closely_ —half to study her condition, and the other half to drink up the details of her form. Though he had constantly tried to deny it, he was very much a male and very interested in women; Hinata just so happened to be among the most beautiful women he had ever seen, as well. He tried not to let her thin cotton shirt distract him with the way it laid upon her torso and chest, but it was difficult to avoid stray thoughts. He resigned to examining her from afar under the guise of training purposes. "I can see your muscles shaking; you're tired _now_ , but they were trembling long before that. The most crucial advantage isn't my blade by itself—it's your _fear_ of the blade. You've been so focused on avoiding the cuts that you haven't noticed the openings I've been leaving after each swing. You back away when you should close in. You have stronger eyes than most—use them to seek out opportunities to counter me."

Hinata listened to every word, but she scowled a little bit. Sasuke had made it sound so _easy_ , but her thoughts told the truth. She didn't dare speak her doubts aloud, for fear of making her new mentor think less of her: _My eyes can_ _ **see**_ _it all...but he's just too_ _ **fast**_ _for me_ _. I won't be able to get close enough to him before he swings again; backing up is all I can do...It's hopeless._ She spoke up, but she altered the message of her thoughts _slightly_ before she did. "I think that I need to be faster before I'll stand a chance against you..."

Sasuke shook his head and straightened his hold upon his sword's hilt. "No—I've been paying attention to your movements, and I'm _not_ moving too fast for you...the issue isn't that you're too _slow_ , it's that you don't want to take the _risk_ of being too slow." Sasuke performed a faster swing with his sword through the warm evening air, though Hinata wasn't in range of it. Still, the timid student tensed when the sound of hissing wind reached her ears and her arms came up defensively. Sasuke tsked. "You feel it, don't you? That sinking feeling is fear, and its pedestal is uncertainty. You're capable of more than you think, but _I'm_ not the one who can convince you of that. Go home, get rested, shake off the rust, think long and hard about your self-doubt, then come back tomorrow at noon and take your next try."

Hinata blinked. "B-but...I asked for one more chance _right now_." She took a step forward, and her features shook a little bit from the neck down. Rubble shifted beneath her feet and she clenched her hands into small fists. "Don't send me home yet..."

Sasuke gave a nod, then he laid the tip of his sword deep into the craggy ground beside his foot. "Fine, but we're taking a step back. You're not quite ready for this level of training. It's my fault, really; I misjudged your condition." With a single hand he deftly untied the lacing of his sheathe, taking it away from his leathery black belt. He tossed the sheathe into the air, then retrieved his sword and slipped the blade into its tube as the casing fell back downward. With his sword sheathed but free from his belt, he brought the hilt to his mouth, then busied himself with tying the strap of the scabbard around the edge guard of the blade. With the knot secured, Sasuke loosened his toothy grip on the wide hilt and grabbed the sword at its base. "There. No more blade, which _should_ mean no more fear." He swung the blunt weapon to test it, and the secure knot held the sword and sheathe together. There wasn't even a rattle of looseness. "If you can abolish your fear, then you should be able to knock this weapon out of my hand."

Hinata swallowed her objections, deciding instead to take the situation exactly as it was. "Okay, Sasuke..." she complied, though she still hadn't quite convinced herself that the training had been a good idea. She had spent half of the day lying on her back and praying not to be cut open. "I'm ready." She activated her Byakugan and then took a slow, deep breath to prepare. Sasuke charged at her with his blunted implement as soon her permission got to his ears. As before, his pace was slow and deliberate in his own eyes, but to Hinata the rounded slices may as well have been the ceaseless strikes of an enraged cobra. She bobbed and weaved, using her astute vision to take in the entirety of her surroundings. Without the fear of death at the tip of Sasuke's sword, she felt minutely more at ease—she was still panicked by his unrelenting pace, but was conversely soothed by the lowered stakes. She had the freedom to focus on other things, rather than the lethality of the sword. Still, she wasn't able to make the decisive move.

Sasuke's dance was paced and rehearsed, a ballet with direction and flow, giving Hinata all of the proper openings to deal with his assault, and waiting long enough for her to exploit his intentional flaws if she put forth the effort. He aimed a cut along the line of her shoulders, which she ducked below; next, a vertical slice which she side-stepped with a pirouette. He followed with a low cut, trying to sweep her ankles out from under her; she hopped deftly over it. She was making all of the right _defensive_ motions, but there was still the crippling fear that slowed her retaliations by a half-step or more. It wasn't _just_ the sword, Sasuke had realized. It wasn't a fear of _him_ at all, despite his initial impressions. Mid-swing, Sasuke stopped his rounded sheathe an inch away from striking Hinata on the elbow, and instead he gave her a mild tap on the edge of her bone as if to signify that the session was over. "Stop doubting yourself," Sasuke said calmly when she froze in place after the sensation of contact.

Hinata had felt the thump against her funny bone, wincing a little bit despite its soft touch. It almost hurt _more_ to know that it had been halted yet still managed to catch her so easily despite the fact that she had never consciously slowed herself down. "I _don't_ doubt myself..." Hinata said, but she ironically began to doubt the truth of those very words as soon as they were in the wild.

"You _do_ ," Sasuke said pointedly. "You came to me for training, and that's great...but training isn't going to do you any good if you don't _believe_ that you can become stronger. To become stronger, you need to give _everything_. You need to break through your _limits_. Against an opponent like me, or the opponents you'll be facing in the tournament, you can't _afford_ to hold back."

Hinata gasped a little bit. "You think I'm holding back...?" She felt a bead of sweat roll across her cheek.

"I _know_ you are, even if you don't realize it." Sasuke revealed, taking a step closer and beginning to re-tie his sword to his waist. "And I think I know _why_."

"Can that _happen_...? Holding back without knowing it?" Hinata pondered, and although she was tempted to take a step backward from Sasuke's advance, she held firm.

Sasuke gave a slow nod, then shook his head to clear the wild hair from his face. "You told me at dinner that you felt like you weren't _good enough_...You said that you gave _everything you had_ for Naruto, but he never appreciated you in the way you wanted him to. So you're _afraid_ , aren't you, Hinata? Afraid that giving your all still won't be _enough_ to get you where you want to be. You're so afraid of being inadequate that you won't risk giving your all anymore—because what if it's still not enough? If you hold back, at least you can cling to the secret pleasure of knowing you could have still given a bit _more_..." With his sword held against his belt, Sasuke reached for his handkerchief somewhere in the pouch dangling over his shoulder. He had been encumbered and overdressed throughout the training day, but not a single movement had been anything beneath perfection. He wiped along the exhausted girl's cheek with the white cloth, mirroring the way he had cleaned a tear from her on a previous occasion. Sasuke watched Hinata's face; he saw the way her eyes drooped half-closed, felt the way her cheek subconsciously leaned into the gentle caress of cloth and fingers. Sasuke realized that the effect he could have on _her_ was a lot like the effectshe had on _him_. The thought excited him, though his face remained frustratingly neutral. Without even cracking a smile, he delivered his point: "Believe me, Hinata—if you try your hardest, then you will _always_ get what you aspire to."

The girl was enthralled by the touch on her cheek; not only was she grateful for the cloth's ability to soak up the annoying, heavy sweat, but it reminded her instantly of the wedding night—a time where such a simple touch had meant the entire world to her. Two days, it had been, but the gap there had felt like two months. She didn't want him to take his hand away, but he _did_ after he finished speaking. She felt his touch and heard his words and the two stimuli seemed to come together as an entirely new sensation, a grip upon her very soul that sought to shake her out of the last reserves of her depression as hard as could be. "T-thanks, Sasuke," she mumbled out, looking to the ground as usual when she tried to hide the horrible redness of her blush—the burning heat of her exhaustion already covered it up, but she didn't want to take the chance. "I can tell that you really think so, but...if I don't _feel_ like I'm holding back...what can I ever do to _stop_ holding back?"

Sasuke gave a hum. "Only _you_ can figure it out in the end; the only advice I can give you is to acknowledge your limitations, but don't _settle_ for them. Avoid telling yourself that you're not fast enough, not strong enough, or not intelligent enough to do something. If you can't find a way to trust _yourself_ yet, then trust _me_ when I say that you _can_ be fast enough to counter me at the pace I'm going." With his sword put away and the sun all but vanished behind the village beyond, Sasuke closed his eyes. "We'll start up again tomorrow. I have a few things I should do tonight."

Hinata gave a nod, a skeptical but _real_ nod. "A-alright...thank you again, Sasuke. For helping me, I mean...I know there are more important things for you to do than think about _my_ problems...so please take this." She moved over to her jacket, carefully kneeling down to dig through the pockets and fish out a few leaves of money, offering them up to Sasuke with fatigue-weighted arms.

Shaking his head and hand, Sasuke refused the offered payment. "That's not necessary. Actually, this has been _my_ pleasure so far, Hinata."

Holding the money out for another moment, Hinata felt shy beneath those words of Sasuke's. His _pleasure_ ; that meant that he was enjoying himself, or at least he _said_ he was. "R-really?" she blurted with disbelief, but then she took her chance to divert from her vulnerable, wide-eyed stupor and asked the question she had been sitting on since she had come across him hours earlier: "Sasuke...what were you doing out here when I found you?"

Sasuke automatically looked over his shoulder again, spotting the somewhat-distant layout of his father's old Police Force uniform. During his various skirmishes with Hinata, he had wandered away from his old home and the memories that he had dug up. Looking at it all from afar gave him a few seconds of clarity. "I came here to think about something, that's all. Don't worry about it. Focus on how you're going to surpass yourself." He took his attention away from the nagging memories and put his sights on Hinata. "You're pretty worn out...will you be able to make it home alright?"

Hinata paused for a moment; Sasuke was offering to walk her home? That was what it _seemed like_. Did she _want_ him to? She nodded her head after a moment, though she wasn't really sure of her own feet anymore. "I'm alright, yes...I'll leave you to your thoughts." She wobbled a bit when she took her first step, but she started _trying_ to leave the broken district behind anyway. She felt even more broken down than she had realized. She hadn't taken many hits, but her muscles had been stressed more than she was accustomed to. Whether Sasuke had believed that she held back or not, her body didn't seem to think so. She stumbled, and right when she thought she was going to hit the ground, she was caught by an arm against her stomach, held out like a tree branch to cushion her fall and keep her on her feet.

"Careful," Sasuke whispered from a few inches away. Wind followed him, rustling Hinata's stingy hair as Sasuke's fingers spread apart to balance the sagging weight of Hinata's core around her bellybutton. He could feel her body relax as her fatigue set in; the adrenaline built by her training had been used up, and Sasuke knew that Hinata wasn't quite as fit to make the journey as she thought she was. "Why don't _I_ take you home?"

Hinata writhed a little, feeling the heat of his fingers against her torso and shivering with the sensation of being held up by his strength alone. _And_ there was the warmth of his voice that reached her ear through her hair, the supportive concentration of the Uchiha's gaze as he looked upon her...she felt shapeless for a moment; Sasuke could have molded her into anything he wanted for that fleeting few seconds, but she collected herself well enough to stand upright and step away from his intoxicating hand. She exhaled and looked to the sky rather than face Sasuke. "I-I'll be fine," she said again. She took another step, though she wasn't exactly sure _what_ she was trying to prove. The ground was uneven and her legs were tired, but she painstakingly made sure that her footing was solid for each step. "Home isn't very far away..." she assured herself while pretending to assure Sasuke. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Sasuke allowed her to escape his grip, but he watched her with a sort of tilted curiosity. He could see even without his Sharingan that her movements were unwieldy and strange; she was legitimately _weak_ after all that time trying to fight against him, as well as against herself. Sasuke wanted to insist on taking her home, but if she, for some personal reason, _needed_ to carry her own limping body all the way home, then he was going to let her do it—nobody ever got _weaker_ from doing a little bit of extra pushing, right? He pulled out of the debate before it began. "Fair enough; take care until next time, then. I'll be waiting for you at noon." Sasuke gave a half-hearted wave of his arm as Hinata found her way out of the ruinous region. She vanished from his sight and he gave a sigh. The fighting had kept his nerves calm, but there was still an odd sensation to his heartbeat, like he had been nervous all along just like before. Sasuke wondered if he would ever get used to being near that woman; she was such an oddity, in such a pleasant fashion. He had never quite felt _that_ way before—not even around Sakura.

* * *

With Hinata stubbornly carrying herself home, Sasuke had been left to his own devices. He had gathered up all of the things which he had ventured to retrieve from his home, and he carried them all under his arm and into a populated part of town. He heard the whispers as he walked, various judgements and misconceptions about him. Despite the lack of welcome, he wasn't ashamed to be there; he took up as much space as anybody else when he walked and his head was held high. He was _sometimes_ trying to teach himself some humility to offset his age-old, inherited pompousness, but he couldn't bring himself to stand aside for anyone. That said, most of the people who recognized him also kept a wide bubble open for him to walk through. Each step Sasuke took seemed to part the crowded streets as he forged a path to his destination—a small, unassuming apartment building far from the wealthier parts of town.

As he traveled and the time of day grew later, Sasuke's keen hearing was starting to pick up murmurs of wrongdoings, whispers of planned robberies and of illegal fight clubs. As the potential property values decreased around him, so did the savoriness of the populace. The village used to be prosperous from top to bottom, but it had only taken a few short years for the economy to wring itself out and for the poor to congregate around one particularly seedy part of the town. In particular, the refugees from other villages, places that had been destroyed by the Juubi, were taking up a lot more space and resources than initially planned. The poor district was a small, rotten corner near an outside wall of Konoha, but if left alone the decay was likely to spread. Naturally, Sasuke parked himself at the center of that decay to keep an eye on it, especially as he considered the implications of his new potential job.

 _Konoha definitely needs a stronger police force,_ Sasuke thought to himself. _But I don't know if I'm the one who should try to make it happen._ As he debated with himself, he reached his destination; it was a place he had seen before from his perch high atop the Hokage Monument; a dark place that seemed to prefer it that way. He knocked on the door of the apartment building's landlord, a small shack separate from the building but within its property lines. The man who answered the knock was rubbing his eyes like he had been awoken from sleep, and Sasuke addressed the balding middle-aged gentleman in a bathrobe with simple, practical words. "Put me in your cheapest vacancy right away. I'll pay for two weeks upfront."

The older man wiped a cloth over his head—he had sweat beading along his baldness and his eyes were a bit mismatched, like the sockets didn't quite line up right on his skull. "Nah, I don't take more than a week at a time..." he said in a grumble as he eyed Sasuke from top to bottom. "Y'look a bit fancy t'be here, don'tcha?"

Sasuke hummed. "I'd rather be in a place where I won't draw a lot of attention from... _certain parties,_ if you get my meaning." An intentionally vague answer; testing the waters. There was no recognition in the man's uneven eyes; Sasuke in his travel cloak was rather unremarkable to non-shinobi, so long as his eyes remained inactive.

The owner of the building shrugged. "Fine. Still only takin' a week's worth from ya. I take more'n that, I'm liable ta get robbed around here." He held a greasy palm out, and Sasuke produced a quick lump of cash—too much for a week in a place like that one, but the Uchiha lad had already been paid too much for _his_ job and had been told to pay it forward. "Thankya," the suspicious-looking landlord huffed, folding the cash into his pocket and turning to fetch a key from a rack on the wall unseen behind the door frame. "Seven's all yours, kid. Got a bed an' a shower, not much else." He tossed the key, which Sasuke caught. "Don't cause trouble, eh?" he grumbled as he shut the door.

Sasuke looked at the small key, a dirty brass trinket with a sloppy ' _7_ ' etched onto the head of it. He turned from the closed door after hearing the owner lock no fewer than three separate bolts and levers; security seemed to be an issue around there. A part of the newest tenant's mind _wanted_ somebody to try to rob the place—even though he had said that he didn't want to be noticed, his true intention for choosing such a rocky segment of the village was to get into—and subsequently _stop_ —as much trouble as possible. Sasuke left it in Kakashi's hands to repair the economy...but until that happened, there were quite a few crimes in the works that could use a thrashing. Sasuke hated to give any credit to the madman, but Danzo Shimura and his Root organization used to be quite efficient at dealing with threats from within—once _that_ organization was properly dissolved, the fledgeling criminal underground naturally fell into the grooves it left behind. Unseen, unheard of, but very much thriving in its unchecked secrecy.

Though the natural-born residents of Konoha were burning with the Will of Fire and tried to maintain the peace, the same couldn't be said for those who had been welcomed into the walls under dire, _forced_ circumstances. The population of Konoha was growing too quickly; a few bad apples tended to slip through the cracks, and when they did, good apples found themselves corrupted by proximity. The tournament was coming, and it would certainly take some of the edge off...but only _some_.

The apartment building was plain; the doors were all outside. There was no interior hallway, just a sequence of stairs and outdoor balconies with a few dozen doors dotting the outer walls. Sasuke found his new 'home' on the ground floor and opened the door with his key. The secondary latch was half-broken, sagging down when he swung the entrance wide; the loose latch clicked annoyingly against the crackled wood as it swung back and forth. Just about every single building in Konoha was fewer than four years old, thanks to the large-scale rebuild project, but even so a building with poor maintenance could go south in short order. What Sasuke saw when he entered his box-shaped room was definitely the result of poor maintenance. The bed was clean and tidy, but the walls already had small cracks running through; even compared to Naruto and Sakura's modest, cramped apartment, Sasuke's new abode was genuinely _tiny_. Two steps took him to the bed, and three took him to the shower that was part of the same room with nothing but a curtain and a slightly-raised square of tiles to separate its little alcove from the rest of the place; water damage was evident on the wooden floor immediately encompassing the shower and there was the slightest aroma of mildew coming from someplace. Beside the flat, single-person bed was a waist-high set of drawers that doubled as a nightstand; the 'apartment' was more like a cheap motel room, but Sasuke didn't mind. All he needed was a roof, and anything else was a _bonus_.

Sasuke set down his meager few belongings, folding up and tucking the items he took from his old home into one of the empty drawers—his father's uniform, his mother's old shirt, and the single mostly-intact dinner plate that he found. Memories of his old life, a life he could no longer _have_ but refused to _forget_. The thoughts attached to those items were the only memories that made him feel like he was at home in an alien village. Sasuke undressed himself after unloading his haul, peeling off his travel cloak and the shirt beneath and then readying himself for a shower by ridding himself of the remainder of his trappings as well. He stepped beyond the curtain and turned one of the knobs attached to the pipe leading to the showerhead. Despite the cracked walls and water damage in his cheap apartment, the plumbing seemed fairly decent—the water was hot and clean when it came down upon his head, and its flow was plentiful enough to wash several days' worth of dirt out of his hair and away from his forehead. A bar of complementary soap sat on a ledge, which he used gratuitously. It had been a criminally long time since his last long, enjoyable shower—and although the alcove it occupied was a cramped little space, it was a tremendously satisfying experience nonetheless.

Sasuke had heard many times that Konoha was nothing without its people—and to him, even considering his former teammates, there _were_ no people in the village worth staying for, so Konoha should have been nothing to him...right? Wasn't that what he _believed_? If so, then why was he thinking about the swaying violet _again_?

* * *

Hinata made it home in one piece, though by the time she had walked into her room she felt like she had gone deaf as a lingering side-effect of her complete exhaustion. So much of her strength had been drained during her training that she couldn't even tell if anybody had said hello to her when she first walked in and discarded her footwear at the front door. Before she knew it, she was in her bed at the wrong orientation, laying on her back with her head hanging over one side and her knees bent over the other with her toes touching the floor. Her arms were splayed out to either side, and her hair was touching along the wood beneath her—in some places, that is. In the _other_ places around her locks, her strands had been shortened too much by Sasuke's blade. As she felt the comfort of her mattress mold around her hips, back, and shoulders, she started to regain some of her senses. It was then that she heard the knock at her door, and she shook her head to clear her mind. "Who is it...?" she weakly called, then cleared her throat and repeated herself more clearly.

"It's me, sis!" Hanabi whispered through the wooden slab. "Are you alright? You didn't say anything when you came in..."

"I'm fine," Hinata groaned quietly. She tried to flex her abdomen and stand herself up, but she had done about as much as she possibly could have done just by dragging herself that far in the first place. She should have just allowed Sasuke to help her home, but she had gotten a bit more _aware_ of being seen with him as a combination of Hanabi's 'date' assumption and Kiba's strange protectiveness. She was actually glad to have found Sasuke in the _empty_ part of the outskirts of the village, with not a soul around to see them. She realized after a few stray wonderings that Hanabi was still outside of her room; probably still asking questions, but accidentally getting ignored. "How did your training with Father go today?" Hinata asked as if to pretend she hadn't spaced out, hoping it might have fit whatever was being said.

Hanabi's voice talked as a muffle through the door. "It was fine, I guess...You sound a bit strange; are you gonna let me in?" she asked, rattling the locked doorknob.

Hinata groaned again, trying to stand. It was no use, really; her muscles were tapped out. She wanted to let her sister in, but it was all but impossible for her to do it. "I-I'd kind of just like to go to bed...I'll talk to you in the morning, alright...?" she struggled to say, fighting the urge to fall asleep since the moment she had touched softness.

Hanabi sulked outside, sighing and thumping sloppily against the door. Hinata imagined that her younger sister was laying her whole self against the oaken barrier, as if she was trying to melt through it with her body alone. "Fine...goodnight," Hanabi said when she relented after a moment. Hinata heard small footsteps leaving, and then she didn't hear _anything_ else. She fell asleep in just the same position as she had fallen into; she was probably going to wake the next morning with a wicked crick in her neck, but she barely had time to think about it before her vision blackened and she began to dream.

* * *

 **Hope you liked it! This one took a bit longer because I'm still fighting some mild sickness; mostly I've just felt _tired_. I'd wake up for 3 hours, write a little bit, then pass out again. I hope this was a good chapter for you all; I tried to give it my best, but feel free to let me know if I sucked =P**

 **As always, thanks for reading and I'll see you again soon.**


	15. A Deepening Hole

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Sasuke didn't sleep at all that night; he spent his time sitting atop his soft bed with his legs crossed and his eyes closed. He was in deep thought, concentrating on his own dilemmas but also projecting his hearing outward to keep tabs on the surrounding world. The darkness of a cloudy night was the single greatest emboldener of criminal activity. He wondered if he had been marked as a target during his arrival; would any of the lowlifes around him try to take advantage of the _fresh meat_? Sasuke humored himself, imagining a group of enforcers coming to his door to collect protection money of some kind. A few theories ran through his head— _Why wouldn't the landlord take more than a week's worth of rent at a time? Would the burglars know the difference in his safe either way? The rule seems suspicious to me. Maybe I should look into what he's got going on around here._

For a few hours, the night was pleasantly calm. Then, more quickly than Sasuke had anticipated, he heard rustling and mumbling outside of his rented front door. His eyes slowly opened when a knock hit the wood, and he stood from the bed without bothering to grab his sword from its place in the nearby drawer. His single room was small enough that he could practically reach the door while sitting down on his mattress, but he stood fully and put himself bodily in front of the entrance before turning the knob and opening up to his visitor. It was a group of four men, each holding some kind of blunt weapon—a metal pipe, a thick wooden branch, whatever improvisations they could come up with. Sasuke was pretty clearly underwhelmed by what he saw. "Can I help you gentlemen?" he asked with a deadpan voice and look.

The stocky, kind of short man who had knocked laughed roughly, reaching his hand out to grab Sasuke abruptly by the collar of his white sleeping shirt. The soft fabric warped slightly around the fist that seized it. Sasuke didn't react. The instigator grinned, dirty teeth and bad breath making themselves known as he offered his puny threat: "Lookie here, tough guy; we're gonna have to inspect this place on account of complaints of noise; you understand, yeah?" Sasuke didn't answer, so the 'guest' scowled and got a bit more serious. "You're gonna want to let us in, or else this'll be a _real_ problem for you." The goon flashed a piece of paper from his pocket, crumpled but newly inked. Sasuke read the small print briefly; although the handwriting was horrendous, Sasuke saw that the 'inspection' was actually legitimate. It was endorsed by the signature of the owner of the building, which explained a lot about Sasuke's previous suspicions.

"Oh, so _that's_ his game..." Sasuke hummed through his boredom, allowing the hand on his collar to squeeze for just a little while longer. "You're the _grunts_. You get to take a little cut out of whatever you happen to 'find' while you 'inspect' the place." Sasuke eyed the four, studying them one at a time. They didn't carry themselves like shinobi—they were more likely common thugs, men who weren't born in Konoha and probably didn't want to be there in the first place. "Am I close?"

Chuckles rose from the small mob, and the man with the copper pipe was smacking it threateningly against his palm. When he talked, he had the voice of a chipmunk, his lips too small to match the broadness of his flat face. "Grunts or not, we got every legal right to inspect the premises, _chump_ ," he practically shrieked. "Ya got no say in the matter, so step aside or else we'll _force_ you to."

Sasuke sighed. It was already the second time since his brief return to Konoha wherein his face was completely unrecognized by the ne'er do wells of the underworld. He decided to have a bit of fun with their ignorance: "Normally, I wouldn't even _offer_ this chance...but because I'm in a good mood tonight, I have a _very_ important piece of information that might urge you four to reconsider your scheme. I'll share it with you if you ask nicely."

The one with the hand on Sasuke's collar spoke up again; his weapon of choice was a broken bottle, held by its narrow brown neck. It was sharp and jagged along the lower edges. The brazen fool rose it slowly, as if preparing for a quick move. He seemed to have sharp senses for a _typical_ human, but that didn't mean much in the Leaf, and it certainly meant nothing to Sasuke. The bottle was near Sasuke's neck, and the man speaking actually seemed to think he posed a threat. It would almost have been _cute_ , if it weren't so despicable. "Look, I don't _care_ what you wanna say. We ain't lookin' for trouble unless you're lookin' to _make_ some, so you'd best keep quiet and step _aside_."

Sasuke faux-relented, raising his one arm with his hand open to show that he was weaponless. In his simple shirt and pants, no cloak or sword to be seen, he didn't appear all that threatening. Even less so with his apparent handicap: one sleeve of his shirt was tied shut at the elbow so that the remainder didn't flap too much in the breeze. The young Uchiha shrugged. "If you don't want to hear me out before you come in, then by all means...have at it." He stepped aside, gently backing out of the man's grip upon his shirt—the collar had been slightly stretched, and Sasuke wasn't going to forget about it.

With the way made, the four fellows in dark, plain clothing entered the tiny apartment and crowded it up. The _main_ man was toward the back, obviously the strong, silent type with a habit of letting his size do all his speaking for him. By the looks of him, he was a typical brute force type with more than enough muscle to corral ordinary citizens and hold them under his crooked thumb. His head practically scuffed the bottom of the second floor platform of the outdoor apartment complex, and on the way through the door he had to duck and turn himself sideways to fit. Even when he was finally inside, he had to slouch to keep the top of his hair from scrunching along the ceiling.

The cramped big guy turned to Sasuke, raising a thick finger and pointing it toward the somewhat-shorter black-haired youth and speaking up when he saw how sparsely packed Sasuke had been. "Hey...what's the big idea of coming here without any valuables?" He sounded like rolling boulders, and he had the demeanor of a man who was used to people cowering before him.

Sasuke shrugged his shoulders, closing his eyes and leaning his back against the wall behind him, beside the door. "Haven't got many valuables," the new tenant explained. "But if you're just looking for cash, there's an envelope full of it in the top drawer over there." He pointed lazily toward the short nightstand beside the bed. "It's under a heap of ruined clothes."

The crook who had been holding the bottle set the improvised weapon on top of the wooden box and slid open the drawer in question. His dirty fingers touched the brown shirt that once belonged to Mikoto Uchiha—the mere thought of such an unworthy grub handling something so precious was enough to make Sasuke's blood warm up, but the payoff was sure to be worth it soon. He held his tongue patiently and allowed the gang to rummage through the tiny room. As the shirt was tossed onto the bed, the rummager found the old uniform that belonged to Sasuke's father.

Initially, the cloth was just a black clump, folded up and too crusty to figure out. It, too, was tossed aside without much thought, which uncovered Sasuke's payment envelope from the Hokage. Long, filthy fingernails dug into the rectangular fold and pulled out a thick wad of money. "Jackpot! There's gotta be at _least_ a few hundred thousand Ryo here!" the treasure hunter announced, holding the cash over his head. Meanwhile, the one who held a pipe was starting to take a keener interest in the clothing on the bed—something specific had caught his eye.

"Say...guys, where've we seen _this_ before?" the squeaker said ponderously. He held up the black upper half of the abandoned uniform, turning it to display the shoulder emblem to his fellows in the dim lighting. The Uchiha symbol was roughed up by age and dust, but still starkly visible against its darker background. "Looks _real_ familiar..."

Sasuke kept quiet for another moment as the group all gathered around the symbol, scratching their heads and trying to place the icon's origins.

"It's like a _fan_ or something," one of them said.

"But it's not _just_ a fan, I _know_ it's somethin' else! Who just puts a regular old _fan_ on his clothes?" another one helpfully pointed out.

"Nah, it looks more like a _fishing_ _bobber_ to me..." the third one said.

They bickered and debated for a few moments before the recognition started to sink in all at once, a gradual slowing of their thoughts. The silence gave Sasuke his cue to speak as all four heads slowly started to turn his way. The 'victim' of the robbery started to smoothly address their curiosity, both eyes shut in the darkness. "It's the emblem of a powerful clan," Sasuke began. "A clan that was once the _greatest_ in all the history of the world." He stood himself up from the wall. "You should recall that I tried to offer an important piece of intel at the door. You refused to hear it, then...but I'd like to offer it again."

The big guy, the leader who towered over the rest, was the only one brave enough to open his mouth. "W-what is it, kid?" He looked like he _knew_ , but he also seemed to hope that his assumption was wrong. It couldn't _possibly_ have been the way it seemed, could it?

"It's my _name,_ " Sasuke started out, taking half-steps, staggered and dramatic, to get a little closer to the foursome huddled around his father's proud symbol. "From birth, I've been destined for greatness. Over the years since, I've seen the world; I've seen cruelty and hope in equal measure, and I've battled against foes that could crack this entire village in _half_." Another step, then a deliberate pause. Sasuke opened his eyes, and he showed their power—a pair of Sharingan, glowing terribly in the darkness. The lowest level of his potential, but more than enough to terrify the onlookers. The eyes were his birthright; his destiny. Even the ignorant invaders could see the power latent in their red glow. "The fan upon the shoulder of that tunic is the symbol of the Uchiha Clan...and I am its last surviving member. My name is Sasuke Uchiha, and I think it's time for you _gentlemen_ to leave."

The four who had previously been so confident were all fidgeting like trapped rats; Sasuke had suggested for them to leave, yet he blocked the doorway with his intimidating frame. The fresh, moist air of the night blew through the opening over his shoulder, but the tantalizing freedom was unattainable by his unfortunate robbers. They were frantically scanning the tiny room; it didn't have any windows. They were well and truly trapped, but they were feeling along the walls and looking for some miraculous, secret exit. One of them found Sasuke's sword in the back of the lower drawer, and he pulled it out instead of his broken bottle and held it in its scabbard by the black enamel handle. "Listen here, _guy_..." the bold criminal proclaimed while the others all looked at him with wide-eyed shock. "We're gonna _take_ all this finery of yours, and we're gonna _real nicely_ forget that you ever talked to us that way...else you're gonna be sorry you ever let us in, got it?"

The one with the solid copper pipe hushed his words and leaned over to confidentially whisper to his compatriot: "You _crazy_ , Shue? This guy's gonna rip you ta _pieces_..."

The concerned citizen was hushed as the sword in trembling hands got drawn out of its sheathe; it was a fine blade, sharper than any other. Sasuke's ego would only allow him to wield the keenest weaponry available, and everyone could see how valuable it was. The thug gulped before speaking up, holding the sword out and shaking like he was standing on a tiny patch of earthquake: "What's it gonna be, pal...?" He managed to posture. "You gonna let us past, or am I gonna _carve_ my way through?" He made a swing with the sword through the air; even in clumsy hands, the sharp blade whistled as it followed its path.

Sasuke smirked. He had thought about knocking them all out with genjutsu; _that_ would have been clean and quick...but at the same time, he had a secretive thirst for violence that sometimes needed to be expressed. _Don't kill them,_ Sasuke thought to himself. Beyond that, he made no promises. "Let's play a game," Sasuke suggested aloud, rolling both shoulders as if he needed to loosen up. "I'm going to ask a few questions, and _you're_ going to answer _every one of them_ as honestly as you can." Sasuke smirked. "That's it; that's the _entire_ game. The winner is the one who's smart enough to tell me everything I want to know. The losers are the ones who think they can defeat me."

Even the hulking muscleman was shaken, backing away a quarter-step as the one apparently named Shue threatened Sasuke with his own sword. "Stuff your questions, brat!" Shue thrust the sword forward without much skill, aiming it for the general vicinity of Sasuke's torso. He hit the wall and had no idea why—Sasuke was blocking the _door_ , not the wall. The kid hadn't even _moved_ , had he? He pried the sword out of the plaster, taking a chunk of the unpainted drywall along with it. Then he made another swing, which wound up hitting the ceiling mid-stroke after some kind of unseen interference. " _What the f_ —" he started to shout, but he was silenced by a brutal impact across his jaw, the forceful connection sending him twisting and writhing onto the floor in pain at his partners' feet before going limp. Sasuke hadn't resorted to any kind of trickery—his precise movements were simply too swift for the untrained eye to catch.

Sasuke calmly plucked his sword out of the ceiling above his head, swinging it once to shake off the dust and debris clinging to its sides. Sasuke prodded the downed intruder with the blunt side of his blade, nudging him along the shoulder. No movement; he was out cold. A smirk followed. " _He_ loses," Sasuke declared. "Now, who wants to _win_?"

Despite the sorry state of their friend, the other three had been discussing some sort of attack strategy while the fourth made a fool of himself. First, the big guy charged forward with his head down and a sloppy battlecry. Sasuke dropped his sword and used his fingers to tap the behemoth on the side of his head. The single dap was strong and precise enough to alter the oaf's entire trajectory and send his self-propelled lunge into the wall instead. His head slammed into the already-punctured plaster, and the impact knocked a few loose flakes of dust down to the floor. Following the charge but not yet noticing its colossal failure, the pipe holder and log-wielder came after Sasuke from opposite sides, one aiming high on his left and one aiming low on his right.

 _Clever, going high on the side without an arm,_ Sasuke said to himself, though even the sound of his inner thoughts had a serious layer of sarcasm. With a whip-quick step back, Sasuke opened up some space between his dual assailants, then swept his left foot underneath the low-swinging pipe, kicking upward to send the metal rod into the chin of the branch-man, which sent him reeling backward to thunk the back of his head into the wall and send him slumping down to the floor; the knock to his head was another clean KO. The guy who used to have a pipe was sent backward by the force of Sasuke's casual, redirecting kick, and he dropped his implement without a chance of holding onto it. Everything was so easy to do—the opponents Sasuke faced were moving like they were trapped in some sort of time dilation. What they saw as fast, hard strikes appeared to Sasuke like the gentle shifting of the moon through the sky. A tiny speck of movement at a time.

Two down, two to go—the big one was starting to recover from the daze of colliding with the wall, and his head left behind a monstrous dent when he pried it away. He shook his cranium out, trying to clear his vision. The disarmed pipe-wielder took a swing at Sasuke's chin with a ham fist, but he missed by a mile and found his arm caught in his opponent's snapping, crushing grip. Next there was a gentle tap of Sasuke's knee against the captured, rigid elbow, which sent the whole arm jamming upward, knocking it loose from its socket and nearly breaking a few bones. Sasuke was getting better at holding back—despite the inconvenience they ultimately presented, at least the goons could serve as an unofficial training session to apply to his inevitable tournament victories. _Treat them like paper,_ Sasuke recited to himself.

The scream of pain out of the mouth of the man who owned the then-dislocated shoulder was both piercing and satisfying, and Sasuke followed up with a solid kick to the victim's chest, knocking him on his rear and and blowing the wind out of him so hard that he was unconscious before he touched the bed with the back of his skull.

That left only the biggest one. He was _angry_ , too; he roared like a bear with both arms thrown out to his sides. He made a swipe to grab Sasuke's legs, but just as before he didn't even _graze_ his target. When he stood up from his mad lunge to look for his prey, he met Sasuke face to face—and upside down. The Uchiha was hanging from the ceiling with his feet clinging to nothing but his own chakra. Sasuke spoke calmly; he hadn't even come close to breaking a sweat despite the humid air from outside. "Are _you_ going to be the winner, or are you going to keep trying and failing?"

The last man standing seemed to get the picture—he looked left and right and saw the carnage, then he looked to Sasuke and saw that the only thing out of place upon him was the slightly ruffled, overstretched collar of his shirt. The bear gulped, giving the _only_ correct answer: "I-I'd like to be the winner, mister, erm...no... _master_ Uchiha." He fell to his knees with a thunk, and Sasuke then gracefully detached from the ceiling and landed soundlessly on his two bare feet.

"Good answer..." Sasuke smirked, looking his suddenly-cooperative guest in the eyes, his Sharingan glowing but not being used for anything beyond intimidation. He picked up his sword, returned it to his sheathe, and walked away from the big, scary, terrified man to slide the weapon back into the drawer. He stepped over the limp (but breathing) body of one of his assailants, then went to fold his parents' clothes back into the drawer as well. Next, he returned the hunk of money that had almost been stolen, sliding it back to its envelope and tucking it away beneath the uniform again. "Now...my first question: What's your cut? Ten percent—maybe twenty?"

Sasuke's prisoner-by-fear looked to the door and thought about bolting, but he didn't even _begin_ to move. He knew what would happen if he did. The act would be seen as disobedience, and he could imagine that something would get _broken_ as a result. "T-twenty- _five_ percent, Master Uchiha."

Sasuke gave a nod, sitting down on the bed and shutting his eyes. He seemed so docile, yet so _deadly_. "Twenty-five percent must be nice...that you know of, does your boss keep a record of these... _transactions_?"

A nod. "Y-yeah, he _does_. It's a little brown booklet; he's gotta keep track of _everything_..." He really _was_ spilling everything he knew. "He keeps it behind the rack with all the room keys..."

"Good to know," Sasuke answered, opening his eyes and standing up from the bed. Again he stepped over a few unmoving bodies, then he started grabbing them by the shirts and dragging them to the middle of his tiny room. "If you want my advice, you should go looking for another job."

From his place on two knees, the defeated crook laughed sardonically. "There _aren't_ any other jobs...don't you know what it's _like_ for people around here? We haven't got anywhere else to _go_...guys like me, we take whatever we can get. Not everyone's getting fat payouts from the so-called _Hokage_."

Sasuke fell silent for a moment as he began to tie the three unconscious men together with a length of wire string. Kakashi had mentioned the shifting economy, but Sasuke hadn't seen it firsthand until that moment—people without special skills or connections were definitely suffering. "I'm going to have a talk with the landlord...sit tight." Sasuke gave the man a glance, finally resorting to a shot of genjutsu to put him to sleep temporarily. The rippling muscles all relaxed at once and he slumped forward. Sasuke gently lowered him down and turned him onto his back—the gentle treatment was the least he could afford to the 'winner,' after all.

The next stop was outside, at the landlord's worn-out shack. Sasuke knocked politely on the door, but he got no answer. He sighed, knocking again—then a few more times. Previously, it had taken several tries to get a response, but that time he didn't get one no matter how hard he tried. Sasuke paused, wondering about how harshly Kakashi would disapprove of his next move—but then he made the move anyway, pressing his hand to the door and giving a push. Gentle, at first, to test the resistance. He didn't want to knock the entire structure down, but he knew from a few hours earlier that the door had multiple locks. _Not to keep out the_ _ **crooks**_ _, but to keep his **victims** from complaining after they've been robbed, _ Sasuke thought with a sneer. _Just the right amount of chakra..._ A quick current of lightning energy jolted through the door and its metallic locking devices, shocking them firmly enough to shatter them at the behest of Sasuke's palm. All of the locks were forced open and the door swung free with a groaning creak.

Groggy, irritated words came from the darkness—Sasuke could see clearly through the black, and he could tell that the owner of the complex was getting out of bed in the same robe he had been wearing earlier. He reached for some kind of club on the side of his mattress, mumbling about 'damned kids' and going toward the entrance. The startled widening of his eyes was yet another satisfying highlight of the evening. "Oh, it's you...uh, shouldn't you..." he was trying to make sense of things. "Shouldn't...you be..." he realized that Sasuke's eyes were in the form of Sharingan and, in the same way as his henchmen, he began to stammer with the realization. " _U-Uchiha_..."

Sasuke stepped in through the door and gave a hum, looking around at the modest accommodations. "It's a nice little racket you've got going, here...you take a week's pay, no more. That much, you keep entirely for yourself." He began looking around while the owner of the property shook against his back wall, clutching his bat in fear. "Then, since you know your tenants have more money on hand—money that they _were_ going to pay you for extra rent—you send your thugs in for an 'inspection' on the grounds of falsified noise complaints." Sasuke found the key rack near the door, nudging it with his elbow until it was knocked slightly ajar, swinging on a hinge. Behind it there was a small brown ledger, just as promised. "And once a few valuables and a bit of cash turn up 'missing' after inspection, you kick the tenants out by way of 'too many noise complaints.' See, if you've got a legitimate reason for evicting them, you're not obligated to refund their money...and their complaints about _missing items_ get pushed aside with a little help from some intimidating men with pipes and bottles." All the while, the landlord seemed ready to wet himself. Sasuke looked at him from time to time, just curious if he was paying attention. "And this book is all the proof I'd need if I were to take this matter to the Hokage—isn't that right?" He plucked the tome from its nest, tossing it up and down like he was issuing a challenge.

The owner growled like he intended to attack, but he stayed in the corner like a good dog. "You're _trespassing_..." he barked, as if it would do any good. "Say I get you thrown outta here for that...do ya think your word's gonna do a bit of good? I may not be a ninja, but I know that the damned Sharingan can be used to fake a man's handwriting...nah, little Uchiha, your word's as good as _dirt, and so's that book._ "

Sasuke took a step closer. All the confident bluster evaporated and the landlord winced like he was getting ready to die. Sasuke chuckled softly. "So we're at an impasse. Here's how this is going to play out—you get to keep your book, but you don't get to keep your little _scam_ _routine_. As long as I'm here—and I _will_ be staying here—you're going to run this place like an honest business. If I catch a single word, hear even a rattle in the night that _sounds_ like your boys are doing something they shouldn't? I'm going to come back in here...and it's not going to be pretty."

"Are you threatening me...?" The landlord shakily demanded. He had wanted to sound tough and defiant, but he was practically crying. "Y-you know, I can't just abandon what's going on here...s'not my call to make..."

Sasuke perked a brow. "Whose call _is_ _it_ , then?"

"C-come on, I can't tell you _that_."

Sasuke's Sharingan lit up; the landlord covered his eyes and winced. It didn't matter; Sasuke could have taken him under control regardless...but something gave him pause. "You're afraid of _someone_ , aren't you?" The landlord gave a slight nod of confirmation. "But who are you _more_ afraid of—your ringleader, or _me_?"

The chuckle that came next was a little bit bizarre, and so were the words: "Y'know, you might be surprised to hear the answer to that question..." He winced again, shutting his eyes more tightly."P-please don't force me to tell you. I'll wind up dead in a ditch by next week if I say another word..."

Sasuke closed his eyes, deactivating his Sharingan and giving the terrified older man a pat on the bald head. "You're a lucky man." He took a step back. "Here's the new plan—run this place as a legitimate business, like I said. In addition, pay whatever difference you end up owing to your nameless boogeyman out of your _own_ pocket for a while—maybe then you'll _appreciate_ the value of the things you've stolen."

"You're not gonna turn me in...or make me talk?" The incredulity was thick. "T-thanks..."

Sasuke raised his hand to cut the apology short. "Don't get me wrong—I'd like nothing more than to dismantle you from head to toe for what you've done already, but you're going to play an important role someday soon. Before that, I'll need to make some arrangements...Don't wander off in the mean time. I'll _find_ _you_ if you do."

"Y-yes sir," the landlord stammered. "M-my name is Ryuza, sir."

"I'll remember it." Sasuke then placed the small brown ledger back on its mount and turned the key rack back into place to cover it up. "By the way—the latch on my door is hanging loose. I'd like you to send somebody out to fix it." He smirked easily as he stepped out and closed the door behind him. He had fried the latches, so it didn't lock shut—he decided to let the nervous Ryuza sit and worry about intruders, just like his tenants had been forced to do for so long. When he got back to his room, Sasuke dragged his vanquished foes out onto the patio in front of his door, then went back into the tiny apartment and shut himself in. What had started off as a minor sense of unrest in the village was quickly proving to be a deep hole; and it was one that was steadily getting even _deeper_.

* * *

The night became morning much earlier than Hinata was ready for, and she was predictably sore from the activities of the evening before. She felt her eyelids opening, but her face felt heavy. As her world coalesced into a coherent sight, she saw her floor above her head and her wall directly in front of her. She felt rested but ruined at the same time; she flexed her fingers, and the tendons all struggled against movement. She had worked herself half-to-death, and as she slowly, carefully forced her body to move, she caught sight of her hanging wall clock and realized that she was due for round two in less than three hours. Again, she wondered what she had gotten herself into. Rather than try to lift herself up, she rolled her body sideways to find the foot of her bed and slump off of it, hitting the wooden floor with a light thunk. The short fall didn't hurt; she was tougher than that. What hurt was everything before and after the impact.

Hinata took slow, deep breaths, letting her stomach and chest inflate and then relax in slow, focused rhythms. _Get a hold of yourself and stand up,_ she was encouraged from inside her own consciousness as her legs fought to prop her body up at the knees. Eventually she floundered enough to land on all fours, and from there she could grab a nearby pole, part of a standing lamp—with both hands clinging for dear life, she used the sturdy rod to hoist herself up and onto both feet. She looked down at herself and recognized that she had fallen asleep in her clothes, and she smelled like dried sweat and dirt. The more she moved, the more her muscles grew accustomed to the burn of their exhausted soreness, and she slowly stepped away from the support of her lamp. " _Shower_ ,"she told herself aloud as she started to strip off the crusty clothes that she had accidentally slept in. She left a scattered trail of garments behind and locked herself into her bathroom.

A handful of minutes later, Hinata emerged along with a cloud of steam from her shower, her hair wrapped in a white towel and the rest of her body bound loosely by a second one. She looked down at herself, particularly along the arms, expecting to suddenly see a large assortment of cuts that she simply hadn't noticed yet—but as she studied her newly clean skin, she didn't catch a single mark of thin redness. A few bruises dotted her hips, knees, and elbows, but she had assumed that they were each a result of one of her own stumbling falls. Sasuke had come at her so quickly and so relentlessly that she was _afraid_ of what might have happened to her, and yet not a single slash of his sword had drawn any blood. The only real casualty she suffered at his hands was the occasional misalignment of her hair and the sorry state of her favorite jacket.

Hinata unraveled the dark, ultramarine tendrils of her head from beneath the towel and wiped a streak of dewy moisture away from her mirror to get a look at herself. She fetched a pair of trimming scissors from the border of her sink and set to work evening out the minor snips. There wasn't quite as much work to be done as she expected—Sasuke even seemed to be considerate of her _hair_ when he could be; she only needed to cut off a little under an inch all around to even her locks out completely. She was probably wasting her time by re-fitting her hair right before another harsh round of training, but she was worried about _one_ important thing—what might have happened if somebody in her family questioned her about her condition?

With her hair redone and her body perfectly cleaned, Hinata went to her closet and picked out a new outfit to wear—one that she didn't cherish quite so much; something expendable. Her jacket was in a lump on the floor, peppered with holes and openings. It was fixable, but she knew the cloth would never quite hang the same again even after being repaired. She considered herself lucky that the weather was warming by the day; she wouldn't really _need_ a jacket any time soon, even though she hated to part with it. She chose a few articles off of the rack in her closet and dropped her towel to make room to pull it all on—plain gray pants that hugged her waist but left room around the thighs and ankles for smooth movements, and a shirt that was her favorite pale violet color; it was loose, too, but not so long that it would flutter in the wind. She found a mix of comfort and appeal; she didn't want to look sloppy by showing up in old rags, but the clothes she picked were old enough to be sacrificed to her training if necessary.

Hinata searched the bottom of her closet for a tote bag, something small enough to be unassuming but large enough to store a change of clothes—she didn't want to be caught in the village wearing something torn and suspicious after training, so she packed a backup set for her trip home. The plan was finally coming together; when she had gone to Sasuke, she wasn't expecting to start right away—she hadn't even expected him to say _yes_. The second day would be better—she would be more prepared.

With her bag packed and her clothes worn, Hinata switched on her Byakugan and made a final check of the strands of her own hair—they were all of an even length and straight all around. _Perfect_. Just as she praised her own skills with the scissors, Hinata's stomach growled greedily. She hadn't eaten during training, or on the way home—her body was mad with hunger and it had only just then caught up with her beyond the lingering ache of her over-stressed muscles. Her shower was done, she was dressed, she was packed—next came breakfast.

There were several dining rooms in the Hyuuga compound, but only one was reserved for Hiashi's immediate family; it was a small one, intimate and square with only one door in or out. Hinata knew that the rest of her family was probably awake and about already, long ago having eaten their morning meals, but she also hoped that a few morsels had been left behind. As she tip-toed toward the dining room, she knew she had been caught even before she heard the footsteps—"Hold it right there!" the spotter declared, an accusing finger pointed from a tiny hand. It was Hanabi—because _of course_ it was Hanabi.

"Oh...hello, Hanabi," Hinata said once she recovered from her slight tension. She felt like she had been captured in some kind of mouse trap, but she quickly got over her surprise and shook her hands out to keep the blood flowing and the muscles warm. If she stood still for too long, she felt like her whole body could cramp up. "Good morning. Have you and Father already eaten?"

Hanabi nodded; she was dressed in training clothes, the same style of white gi which Hinata had worn with Ko on the previous morning. Hanabi had a small, damp towel draped over her shoulder and a full bottle of water in her hand. The younger sister was red and a bit sweaty, too—training had already started and all the signs made it seem like she was taking a break. "Already eaten and gotten busy warming up, yeah," Hanabi said, stepping closer with a curious head-tilt. "Say...what's in that bag?"

Hinata clutched the dark duffel a bit closer to her hip, scrunching up and pulling her feet together. "Nothing important...just a change of clothes, that's all." The air felt tense for no good reason; Hanabi was just being her usual nosy self; no big deal. Maybe it _was_ a big deal, though, because for the first time in years Hinata felt like she had something she needed to _hide_. "I'm going to grab something to eat, and then I think I'll go _out_ for a while."

Hanabi smiled, a genuine peace upon her heated face. "I'm glad to hear that," she said, stepping in to wrap an arm around Hinata's hip and pull her into a slight hug—not too tight, not too close; Hanabi was pretty aware of her own aura of exercise, and she didn't want to rub off too much of the aroma onto her freshly-prepared sibling. "I was worried, you know? Thought you'd turn into some kind of shut-in with a thousand cats and no friends after all this Naruto business..."

Hinata smiled at the simple affection, and even the little wisecrack. "No, _you_ never would have let that happen to me," the older one said to the younger, her arm slipping across Hanabi's shoulders appreciatively until the hug was dismantled.

"Darn _right_ I wouldn't. So, last night...you looked a bit _off_ when you got home. Where _were_ you all day?" Hanabi asked from a footstep away, one heel lifted with her hips slanted in a kind-of sassy manner. The inkling of curiosity was becoming a focused inquisition, as usual.

"First, I walked around the village. Then, I spoke with Kiba and the Hokage about a few things. Finally, I decided that I should give myself a workout. I think I might have overdone it, though; sorry about last night...I couldn't even reach the door, I was so tired." Hinata bowed her head with sincere apologies. She really _had_ wanted to let Hanabi in, but she honestly couldn't have stood up despite her efforts.

Hanabi raised her bottle of water to her lips, plucking the top off with her teeth and then guzzling the whole serving down. After a refreshed gasp, she pointed the nozzle toward her sister. "No problem, I know what it's like to get totally worn out."

Hinata looked up and down the well-lit hallway the pair stood in; nobody was coming, but she still felt antsy. Whether the Hokage and Sasuke had supported her choice or not, she had still betrayed her father's orders. It was a lot easier to ignore the defiance when she wasn't _in the house_. She replied to Hanabi after shaking her head. "I shouldn't overdo it, but this tournament...it actually has me a little bit _excited_."

"You too?" Hanabi grinned. "Those poor saps in the beginner league won't know what they're in for," she said, not meaning to offend by bringing up Hinata's intended placement. "You'll _clobber_ 'em, no question."

Hinata gulped. Should she tell her sister? No. She couldn't. Kakashi had told her to keep the plan a secret, and although she wanted to _trust_ Hanabi, she also knew about how loyal the heiress was to their stern father. "I want to be at my best. Yesterday, Lord Sixth told me that people from all over the _world_ would be here. I want them to see how strong I am, now. I want _everyone_ to see."

"Everyone, eh? Well, I know _I'll_ be cheering you on, and I'm sure Ko will be, too! Naruto will be back by then, as well—I bet he'll be so proud of you!" Without meaning to seem cold, Hanabi didn't even _mention_ Hiashi. And why should she have? Each of the sisters knew as well as the other that their father wasn't going to be cheering for Hinata—he probably wasn't even going to cheer for _Hanabi_. He was far too regal to partake in something as pedestrian as _cheering_.

Hinata nodded. "I want Naruto to be there; I want him to see me _win_."

Hanabi pursed her lips. "Yeah, but isn't there somebody _else_ you want to impress?"

Hinata felt herself blushing as she thought of Sasuke. "W-who do you mean?" She tried to play elusive.

Hanabi shrugged, closing her eyes and turning to the side, facing the wall. "Oh, I dunno...some _hot guy_ whose attention you'd like to grab? Kiba's pretty cute, you know...in that lovable, _dumb mutt_ kind of way. Now that Naruto's hitched, you could stand to explore some _other_ options, that's all I'm trying to say."

Hinata tightened her brow at that, but her eyes were simultaneously trying to bug out of her head. _Kiba!?_ She liked Kiba plenty and she trusted him as a teammate, but she wasn't exactly aiming to _impress_ him. Shino, either—they had all _grown_ together. If anything, she figured that Kiba was going to try to impress _her_. "R-right. _Kiba,_ " Hinata said skeptically after her thoughts fell into place. She cleared her throat and turned like she was in a hurry. She had more than an hour left to spare, but an hour could turn into five minutes more quickly than some people realized, and she didn't want to risk being late. Then again, this was _Sasuke_ she was keeping her appointment with—the same Sasuke who had almost gotten himself disqualified due to tardiness during the Chunin Exams. Maybe she was stressing too much, but she refused to take the chance. "Anyway, Hanabi, you should get back to training."

Hanabi pouted and huffed, but Hinata was already leaving. "Fine...go on and have fun _without_ me..."

With a parting wave over her shoulder, Hinata answered lightly. "I'll make it up to you soon, Hanabi!" She didn't find any leftovers from breakfast, so she decided to just pick something up along the way. Something from someplace quick, preferably.

* * *

Hinata reached the Uchiha Ruins right on schedule, with not a moment to spare—she had run into some long lines and thick crowds while she picked up her 'quick' breakfast, but she arrived before the sun was high and the time was just a little bit before noon. She saw Sasuke right away with her Byakugan, and _that_ _time_ she didn't even _try_ to sneak up on him, because she was still understandably frightened of his instant reflexes. The day before, he had been able to stop himself—but would he _always_ have that much restraint? "Sasuke..." she whispered, and he appeared to have heard her from a fair distance.

"Good, you're here," Sasuke replied, standing up from his meditative seat and turning to look at Hinata. She was in different clothing; simpler clothing. Her teacher looked like he had on a smirk of approval, but it could have just been the lighting of high noon that made it seem so. "Are you ready?"

Hinata gave a nod. "I am," she said meekly. Her muscles were burning already, and the thought of such rigorous training for a second day in a row had her nervous and apprehensive. "Sasuke...h-how was your night last night? Did you rest well?" She was trying to buy a little time.

Sasuke thought back to the commotion he had helped cause at his rundown apartment complex, but he decided that it was nothing worth mentioning. "As pleasant a night as any other I've had, I guess." He had all of his belongings with him again, tucked into his travel bag. Although he was fairly sure that the creeps wouldn't try to rob him a second time after he imparted his humiliating lesson, he still didn't want to risk his _only_ _few_ cherished possessions. "What about _you_ , Hinata?" He looked at her with a natural softness.

Hinata shivered under his attention. Every time he said her name, she liked the sound of it on his lips just a _little_ bit more. He was getting so _good_ at saying it... "Y-yes, I'm rested and prepared for another lesson."

"That's what I was hoping to hear. Let's begin." Sasuke tied the scabbard to his sword's hilt and quickly started to swing the blunt extension at Hinata once again. And so began another full day of rigorous training.

* * *

 **Sasuke's becoming something of a magnet for trouble, isn't he? I hope you liked the chapter. As always, let me know what you thought of it, and expect another one fairly soon.**


	16. The Thirteenth Lesson

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Sasuke was swinging at Hinata, and Hinata was deftly dodging nearly every well-aimed blow. She was fluid and attentive; her eyes were active, and they were showing her every possible angle. From time to time, Sasuke would swiftly put himself behind her back with instant movement and strike from what should have been a blind spot, but even then Hinata could anticipate and react to his lazy strikes. So then why was it so difficult for her to disarm him? Sasuke had, at some point, turned on his Sharingan to get a closer look at her movements. Her muscles were behaving as they should, for the most part—she was strong and responsive, her whole body in tune to her thoughts...until it wasn't. Sasuke delivered a swipe, a sweep, a jab, all of them neatly escaped by Hinata's dance. Sasuke was impressed, even despite the fact that she was consistently failing to achieve the _goal_. But there was a glaring hesitation at key junctures.

"Yesterday, we talked about fear," Sasuke began as he made another slash with his sheathed sword. He was gaining ground on her, and she was constantly stepping back. The terrain was crumbling beneath each of their feet, but even Hinata was starting to get used to the minefield of debris and sharp objects that used to be the Uchiha District. Sasuke analyzed every detail of her hesitation; he sought to find the precise moment in which her fear took hold of her throat, that exact period where she felt the most _threatened_ by his assault. "Conquer your fear! Steady your breathing, Hinata!" Sasuke shouted curtly after an especially quick slash, then followed it with another. He deliberately caught her shoulder with a glancing hit, blunt and firm on the tip of his sheathe. The collision got a small _eep_ out of Hinata's mouth and she was knocked off balance.

She tumbled backward, fell onto her rear with a thud, and then began to pant from exhaustion as the engagement ended. They had once again been training for numerous hours, and the sun was ready to fall down on another day. Hinata tried to speak, but initially she was too busy gasping desperately for air. She hadn't been able to feel the pain in her system while she moved, but every time she stopped, her muscles burned afresh with exhaustion and soreness; the sudden depletion of adrenaline robbed her of her senses. When she could at last see, hear, and feel herself trembling again, she gulped down a dry mouthful of air that should have been saliva. She spoke through a drought, her lips and tongue all cracking due to how harsh her breathing had been. "I-I'm out of energy," she said pleadingly, then she turned off her Byakugan to conserve her dwindling chakra reserves. It was another day, the _second_ day, and she still hadn't come any closer to disarming Sasuke—or any nearer to removing her own fears.

Sasuke hummed, turning away from Hinata with a shake of his head. "You're right—you've pushed yourself too far tonight." He was walking away; it seemed almost like he was abandoning her, but after a few steps he came upon his bag where it had been tucked away between a few blocks of rubble. He dug through the satchel and pulled out a canteen, tossing it unceremoniously toward Hinata. It bounce when it landed, but the parched Hyuuga girl caught it mid-air before it could bounce again, and she immediately uncapped it and guzzled all she could. Sasuke talked again while Hinata gulped down the full supply. "You may need a day to recover after the two we've already spent. This training is simple, but it's _intense_."

Hinata turned her head back and forth, dropping the canteen and finally able to breathe freely. She could feel the moisture as it spread through her body like a healing salve. Every gulp was soothing all of the burning, dried pathways in her system with icy refreshment. "N-no, Sasuke. I'm _not_ taking a day off. I need to work as hard as possible...because I don't want to disappoint you." She paused; she had meant to say someone else, either Naruto, or Hanabi, or Kurenai, or _anyone_. She didn't want to seem like she was putting Sasuke in a position where he _needed_ to give her his approval. She wasn't one to impose her personal wishes upon strangers...though, he wasn't a _stranger_ , exactly; they had known each other at least in passing since their childhoods, even though they had been kept far apart. Actually, it still felt strange for them to actually be spending time together. The embarrassing part, to Hinata anyway, was that they were from the very same class, and yet she was desperately clinging to him as a master. She had been so casually surpassed by a man of her same age that it brought shame to her heart.

And yet there _was_ no shame in being weaker than Sasuke; she knew that, too. She had been feeling opposing emotions about the Uchiha survivor as he pulled out another container, this time not for water, but for dried jerky. Sasuke began to eat morsels out of the box as he sat down several paces away from his student. Hinata was going to say something, but he beat her to it. "Don't worry about disappointing me," he said as he chewed slowly. He had been on his feet and actively swinging his sword around for over nine hours, yet he seemed entirely fresh. His boundless stamina and unwavering attitude made Hinata internally afraid of what he might be like if he were going all-out. Nobody had seen his fight with Naruto, but she had heard stories of the earth cracking and breaking, of all nine of the legendary Beasts lifted up and imprisoned at the slightest gesture of Sasuke Uchiha. His power was greater than any myth she had ever been told...and yet she saw him sitting there, eating utilitarian food out of a simple pack and treating her like a worthy pupil.

While Hinata was daydreaming about such awe-inspiring power, Sasuke was thinking mundanely about Hinata's unassuming position a few steps off from where he had settled down. His entire body was enveloped by the black of his cloak as he sat, the abyssal, flowing garment pooling around his waist and over his crossed legs. "Hinata," he said softly. Despite the easiness of his words, he could see the girl tense. "Come here. You need to eat something, or else you're probably going to pass out on your way home tonight." He held out the container of jerky, a small brown box carved out of wood and given a simple, top-swinging hinge lid.

Hinata pursed her lips; she started to stand, but like the night before she was already completely tapped out. Instead, she scooted herself toward him with just her arms, halfway dragging her lower body along with her. She groaned a little, but she tried not to look weak. She had dirt along her face and there were pools of sweat staining her thin, lightly-colored shirt. She reached Sasuke's side without saying anything, folding her knees under herself and sitting on her heels. She was still trying to slow her breathing, but she found that as she got closer to Sasuke, it became even _harder_ to ease down.

She couldn't even bring herself to look him in the eyes while she held her hands out, cupped to receive a few small bits of his dried jerky. She felt the pieces land in her palms, then she shoved all of them into her mouth at once, chewing ravenously. It was a stunning contrast, as she thought about it—Sasuke had always been portrayed as some kind of savage, and _she_ had always been a dainty, etiquette-bound young lady of the Hyuuga Clan. And yet Sasuke ate slowly while she shoveled mouthful after mouthful of shared meat bits.

Sasuke chuckled to himself; he could see how hungry she had become after using up all her strength, so rather than siphon small servings into her hands, he offered over the whole container, which she took and began to eat from without enough shame to slow down. She was blushing madly, as she knew how it must have looked, but the feelings of restraint weren't enough to keep her from acting on impulse. Sasuke offered her some praise while she filled her tank: "You've already gotten faster since yesterday." He filled the air with velvet words, then he leaned himself back, resting his shoulders on a half-broken pillar jutting out of the debris. "At this rate, and with this much determination, you'll be all but _guaranteed_ to win."

Hinata stopped chewing, swallowing what was in her most recent bite and then clearing her throat. "I _can't_ have gotten faster," she said, thinking back to that day's training. She had been easily handled and dismissed more times than she could even count, just like the day before—and her muscles burned like they _never_ had. "I haven't gotten any closer to disarming you..."

Sasuke huffed, shaking his head. "No, you _haven't_...but if I were moving the same way I was moving yesterday, you _would_ have." He opened his eyes after a long moment of thoughtful silence to see that Hinata looked stunned. He smirked knowingly. "You shouldn't doubt your growth potential, Hinata; you're from an extraordinary bloodline, just like I am—and just like Naruto is. Tradition and rigid fighting styles have made the Hyuuga formidable, but they have also fallen into a rut—you're not the _same_ as the rest of your family; your full potential isn't going to be reached by following the same routine as they are." Sasuke put up a knee, then draped his arm over it while he looked skyward. The orange colors were giving way to blackness and stars. "I won't lie to you and say that you can surpass _me_ , but you're absolutely worthy of my full attention as a student. The difference between your performance yesterday and what I've seen today is already _tremendous_ ; I actually look forward to seeing how strong you'll have become by the time the tournament arrives."

Hinata was initially shocked by the revelation that she had already improved; after that, though, she looked down to her open hands and pressed her fingertips against her palms gently. "Do you think I'll surpass my sister?" she asked, meek and nervous. She pictured Hanabi's cheerful face, the excitement on her red cheeks at the thought of participating in the tournament. Hinata had no resentment for her sister, but if she couldn't defeat Hanabi in the tournament then she may have had to admit that she wasn't ready to go against her father's wishes.

Sasuke gave a quiet laugh, shaking his head again and then brushing his hand through his hair to clear some of the gathered rubble and leafy flakes that had been kicked up during his quick practice movements. "I'm saying that if you let me continue to teach you, you'll surpass your entire _clan,_ " the Uchiha said with utter seriousness.

Hinata looked skeptical. "Even my father...?"

Sasuke nodded. "Even Hiashi Hyuuga," he clarified. "As I've said, Hinata: the Hyuuga have become strong through their concentrated reliance on a single fighting style, combined with their adherence to a particular training regimen. However, in locking down such a strong foundation, they've neglected the task of _building_ upon it. What you and I are going to do, Hinata, is _build_ upon that style."

"Build upon it...? How do you mean?" Hinata still seemed puzzled, and her creased brow showed through her sweat and dirt to portray her doubts.

Sasuke blew out a thoughtful breath. "We'll work on that later. First, you need to conquer your fear of failure." He looked upon her, and the look spoke for him—it said to obey him just by how stern it was. "Failure is _alright_ , Hinata. Strong people _can_ fail; failure doesn't equate to _weakness_." He looked around himself at the destroyed region. He thought of Itachi; he thought of himself. He thought of Naruto, and of all the times that all _three_ of them had failed. "Failure is nothing but a stepping stone. If you take a hit, you take a hit—don't worry so much about the pain. Now, you're worn out, but I want you to give me _one more_ solid attempt before you head home tonight." Sasuke lifted his covered weapon from his side, standing up and holding it out toward Hinata as a precursor to combat.

Hinata had eaten and drank, but she was still exhausted. She fought against the burden of herself, eventually bringing her body upright by some miracle that couldn't be explained. She was partially numb from top to bottom, her feet throbbing in her sandals and her fingers sore from tension. Her neck was stiff, her legs were wobbly, and her shoulders could barely support the weight of her arms as she tentatively held them up. Her back ached, her spine felt misaligned, and her hips had a dull sense of pain traveling through them; she had fallen a hundred times, but had gotten up a hundred and _one_. She knew she was going to fall again, but she wasn't going to do it until Sasuke _made_ her fall.

* * *

That session ended the same way as the one before it, with Hinata defeated and Sasuke's sword unerringly grasped in his hand, prodded bluntly against her neck. A second time, Sasuke offered to walk the battered girl home, but she politely refused and went on her own way just as before. Sasuke shrugged and returned to his small single-room apartment, and there were no noteworthy disturbances in the night. The landlord and his cronies had seemingly been suitably convinced to follow another course in life; Sasuke's second week of rent was even paid for by the owner himself—new tenants were able to move in, and they were no longer being forced out by 'noise complaints' or robbed for their belongings. Sasuke felt the satisfaction of dismantling the robbery operation, but of course the rest of the area was still quite rough, and the roughness was growing faster than he could prevent while operating on his own impulses.

Each time Sasuke shut the door to his apartment (and closed the recently-fixed latch), he thought more and more about Kakashi's job offer. _If I were the chief, I could direct the Police Force toward this corner of the village...it seems like they have neglected it for years now..._ He shook his head whenever the thought arose; he wasn't looking to ingrain himself in the village any deeper than he already had. He had committed to stay for the tournament, but once again he saw a finite duration to his stay in Konoha. And the duration ticked away one day at a time.

Another day came after that, and then another; soon there had been a total of twelve straight days of rough training, and yet Hinata still could not wrest the sword from Sasuke's grip. Every lesson began and ended the same way. Hinata continued to improve, physically, but she perpetually hesitated to strike in the proper manner. Sasuke was patient; unendingly so. He frequently reminded her of her goal, and she never lost sight of it...and yet she could never _reach_ it. When she grew faster, so did Sasuke; the relative pace was the same each day, so much so that Hinata hardly noticed her own improvements by comparison to the insurmountable skills of her teacher.

With the end of each 'failed' training session, Sasuke would give Hinata food, water, and an offer to take her home. She would always accept the first two, but deny the third. Sasuke knew why: she didn't want to be seen with him—but not because of her _personal_ feelings. The village as a whole would react poorly to the sight; with the two having been seen together at the Akimichi Clan's restaurant, there were already quite a few rumors generated, but both Hinata and Sasuke were keen on letting the quiet whispers _remain_ as quiet whispers.

And then, after a long stretch of relative sameness, there came the thirteenth day of lessons, and things rather suddenly changed...

* * *

"Again," Sasuke delivered with typical flatness. Hinata sprung to her feet; she was getting quicker every day as she broke herself down and built herself back up with constant cycles, and during that later phase of training she was growing to be able to rebound from Sasuke's gentle strikes almost immediately. Still, somehow, she felt too incompetent to close the deal and make the attack that would disarm Sasuke. The pair came together under the late-noon sun during another brief skirmish, and Sasuke's sheathed blade struck Hinata fairly plainly on the edge of her forearm, knocking her hand out of the way. With her defense cast aside, Sasuke jammed the tip of the sheathe against her collarbone, pushing her back with a somewhat brutal step forward and speaking plainly. "It's been almost two weeks since we started, Hinata—your body is making admirable progress, but you're still playing it too _safe_. I can stand here for months telling you to take the risk, but will you ever _do_ it?"

Hinata winced at the pain against her collarbone. She took a step back to try to lessen the pressure, but Sasuke followed her and kept it there. Was he getting frustrated? She wouldn't have blamed him if he was, but the way he poked her still _hurt_. "I-I'm trying, but you're still swinging too _fast_ for me." She kept using his speed as an excuse; no matter how many times he told her that he was perfectly tailoring his movements to her potential, she refused to believe him. She _did_ try to go toward him in recent days, to step _in_ instead of _back_ ; in fact, she had tried it just a moment ago—and then her hand was easily knocked away. She _thought_ she was taking the right kind of risks, but they never paid off.

"Stop forcing yourself to fight like a _Hyuuga_ , Hinata." Sasuke said at last, tugging his prodding implement away from her neckline. Hinata rubbed the sore spot left behind and listened to what her sensei was saying to her: "Use your _wits_ to counter me, not just your body. You're fast, you're strong, you're precise—but you're _predictable_ , too. All this time, you've been held back by fear...several _kinds_ of fear. Fear of pain, fear of disappointing me—or maybe you're afraid of disappointing Naruto, or _yourself_...but then there's also one last fear that seems to be completely internalized—one that you probably can't even figure out. It's a fear of defying your _training_ ; in effect, a fear of your own _instinct_. Many times thus far, I've seen you step back a half-pace slower than you should...and I believe that it's because you're _hesitating_ inside. You've been trained to fight in a certain way since you were a child—but that method isn't going to defeat me, and a part of you _knows_ it. When your body urges you to do something, _do it_. _Trust_ _yourself_."

Hinata had heard similar speeches from Sasuke before, but for some reason that one hit her in the gut. She hit upon the realization that she _had_ been defying her latent instincts in favor of what she had been trained to do, but for how long had it been going on? A part of her body had recently started wanting to act out on its own, to make a move that she had _never_ made before. She hadn't ever felt those impulses in the past; was there some method to the way Sasuke was attacking her that was somehow encouraging those feelings? "W-what do you mean by fear of my own instinct? How do you _know_?" she timidly asked him, looking down to the ground.

Sasuke twirled his sheathed sword along his fingers, testing the balance. It was still perfect. "I've been leading you to dodge in a certain manner all along; every one of my strikes directs you to react in a way that keeps you from exploiting the openings I leave behind by using your normal style. As I've said since our first day—you're fast enough to counter me at the speed I've been tailoring to you, and you _should_ be stepping inward instead of backward. The one thing I _haven't_ mentioned,the thing I've wanted you to figure out for yourself...is that you should be countering with your _instinct_. You're stubborn without knowing it; you insist on fighting with established rules. The Hyuuga techniques form together into an efficient fighting style, but it's not perfect. It's _predictable_ to those who have seen it before. I know what your moves will be because I've watched the Gentle Fist with my Sharingan. I can predict _all_ of the tactics that your style relies upon, and I'm not the only one who knows the weaknesses. If you want to disarm me, you'll need to try something _new;_ become _unpredictable_ , and you might finally remove my most crucial advantage."

"Unpredictable...? But how will I know something's going to work if I've never done it?" Hinata asked, as if she didn't understand the purpose of the lecture.

"You _can't_ know, Hinata—that's the _risk_." Sasuke showed her the blunted, covered edge of his sword. "I'm training you with my sword covered so that you can afford to take risks without getting seriously hurt—I'm giving you every opportunity I can. I want to let you experiment with your body; to give you the chance to explore your personal strengths and weaknesses. If you take a hit because you took the wrong risk, then you can freely try another tactic. Unfortunately, for nearly two weeks you've done the _same_ thing, over and over again...Now, I know your effort hasn't all been for naught—you've gotten more agile every day. However, if you can't break out of the Hyuuga rut and find another way to use your body, you're never going to be able to surpass the rest of your clan. If you want to defeat your sister, then show her a _better_ way. Be your own fighter; set your _own_ example. I can only offer suggestions and physical challenges— _you're_ the one who needs to have a breakthrough."

Hinata stood a few feet from Sasuke, absorbing what he said and trying to force herself to believe it. "You said that I should acknowledge my fears, though...that I should sometimes let them hold me back."

Sasuke dipped his head, nibbling the inside of his cheek. "I said to strike a _balance_. Fear is essential for survival, but it can also be _too_ influential. Fear _death_ , not pain. Life is always going to give you pain...there's no preventing it. Running from pain is just delaying the inevitable. Don't be afraid to feel _hurt_. _Courage_ is when you're hurt, or about to _be_ hurt, yet you still act in defiance of the pain. You have that power, Hinata—even just over these two weeks, you've _been_ hurt, but you've continued to _try_. And yet you still refuse to go against your family's teachings...is that because of your cousin Neji?"

Hinata gulped, then she gave a small nod. "He taught me everything I know about fighting, for as long as I can really remember...I feel like I carry his will inside of me, and that I should rely on him for my strength."

Sasuke smirked. "I know about Neji Hyuuga...He was your cousin, older than you by a little more than a year. He was born as a member of the Branch Family. Because of that, he was designated as an outcast within his own clan. Still, he fought against the grain; he trained to become the most powerful prodigy whom the clan had ever seen, mastering all of the techniques entirely by himself...ultimately, Neji's promising life was taken from this world by the cruelty of war, but not before he gave a final wish. A wish meant for _you_ , Hinata...and his memory now means _everything_ to you. And I know that it's not just because he was a war hero." Sasuke stepped closer to Hinata and let her see his expression clearly. He was taller than she was, so she had to look up to see his soothing smile. When she saw that reassuring look, she smiled in return and he kept talking. "He means so much to you because he's _family_. Neji made you strong before _I_ ever got the chance. I know he's important to you, and I don't want you to _discard_ his teachings—what I want is for you to use what he taught you as another stepping stone. Climb toward something greater than what he made you; stand upon his shoulders and see further than even _he_ ever did. Follow his example—break away from the restraints of the Hyuuga, from the bonds of destiny, and become _yourself_."

Sasuke stepped back to give her some room; he was finished talking for the moment. Hinata fell quietly to her knees in thought, looking into her lap at her regally-crossed hands. They were folded, one over the other, with her fingers curled to hold onto her palms. She felt so much like a princess, but it was so long ago that she had been 'demoted'. She had gone from 'rightful heir' to just 'Hiashi's daughter'; even so, she maintained her frail act in public. She acted like royalty, however bashful she was. She let others think of her as weak; she _looked_ like she was constantly in need of protection. She sometimes had _fun_ pretending to be a helpless damsel, but perhaps that act had contributed to her father's underestimation...and so, perhaps the tournament would be even more satisfying thanks to everybody's preconceptions of her. She caught herself smiling. She wasn't just being encouraged...she was being encouraged by Sasuke Uchiha, a man whose only rival was Naruto Uzumaki. Sasuke was a man who had no other students, no other pursuits that anyone knew of. He was giving her so much attention, so much strength, so much _time_...because of him, she managed to feel special again. "Thank you, Sasuke...I think I understand what you're saying, now."

Sasuke gave a proper nod. "Then let's try again, hmm?" He made his strike, but over time Hinata had grown accustomed to his quick starts and she was quick to respond. As she tilted her upper body to let the thrust pass over her right shoulder, she thought about the days she had already spent with him. Two weeks came out to feel like a long time, given the brutal pacing of their training. Typically, the night would end with exhausted sleep, then the mornings would involve quick breakfast and the occasional awkward deflection of Hanabi's questions and curiosity. The new heiress had noticed Hinata's exhaustion, her grueling schedule and constant disappearances...but the younger sibling seemingly hadn't figured anything out quite yet. As Sasuke's sword whooshed past her ear, catching a strand of hair along the smooth sheathe, Hinata knew that it was only a matter of time before she was discovered, but every day that passed in secret was another day stronger that she could become before reality caught up to her.

The official registration forms for the tournament were already sent in—Hinata was only waiting on the Hokage's summons to alter her personal entry form. Public applications had opened up a little under a week ago, and as everyone predicted, Rock Lee was the very first person in line to register at the booth. He had spent nearly four days doing pushups, situps, and jumping jacks to pass the time until everything actually opened. He seemed excited since the first announcement was made, and so did everyone else. Sasuke was already officially registered, but his participation hadn't yet been made _public_ —Kakashi was probably waiting for an ideal moment to make that declaration to the village and to the world.

Hinata felt wind against her cheek again when the sheathed blade crossed dangerously close to her face. _Be unpredictable,_ she told herself, but her legs and arms were still doing the same old thing. She wondered if her 'instincts' had only been imagined; had she really been trying to subconsciously defy her previous training, or was Sasuke giving her too much credit? She tried to clear her thoughts and focus only on the faux battle, but there were too many things to think about. Naruto and Sakura were due back that day, but nobody knew exactly _when_. She also thought about how she hadn't seen Kiba since their conversation on the day Sasuke took her as a pupil—she hadn't exactly gone _looking_ for him, though, so that might have been nothing. The days had ticked past without much care, and nothing else seemed worthy of mention— _ **there it is!**_ Hinata's thoughts were torn from the past as she recognized a mild impulse at the back of her neck. That was the signal she had been fighting against on every previous day. Rather than pause, rather than swallow it back down, she allowed the impulse to fire off in her brain and send her body into its desired reaction.

The crucial time came as Sasuke's sword was sent in a sweeping horizontal arc toward her stomach. Typically, she would step back once, then try to head back _in_ with a strike of her open palm—that was what Sasuke would expect her to do; that was the _predictable_ thing. Every time she had tried that, her hand was knocked away and she was swiftly batted off by a jab of the sheathed sword. Instead of doing the same thing, instead of stepping back, and even instead of stepping _forward_ , Hinata felt her knees buckle underneath her thighs on their own. Her body folded over; she dipped low, her entire self leaning backward until she was practically parallel with the ground. She saw Sasuke's sword fly over her face, and the wide radius of her Byakugan vision allowed her to see his confident smile. He approved. She had begun to do it right, but so far it was only a defensive bend.

The progress was to be found in the follow-up. Still mid-thought, Hinata's body twisted, turning her shoulders sideways and laying a hand on the rubble beneath her. She used her grip upon a solid stone to pivot her legs, bringing them up from the ground so that her left foot could rise up, diagonally opposed to the surface. It all happened in a flash; Hinata finally realized her own speed as she felt the wind split against the tips of her toes. The world fell silent as her head moved within a small vacuum; she could see it all as if she were on the outside looking in—and in a way, she was. The Byakugan was immensely powerful, in that regard. She could see her own motions, she could see Sasuke's sword and the arm it was attached to. She could even see the fly on the wall a few meters to the east. Most of all, she could see the pride on her teacher's expression when her foot connected with his wrist and jostled the hilt of his weapon free of his grasp. The sword was knocked away decisively, and Sasuke made no move to retrieve it as it tumbled silently toward the ground before clanking against the stone and falling still.

Sasuke went still as well; his swing was halted mid-completion when he felt Hinata's foot knock his grip loose. It had been a loose grip—a toddler's grip, by his standards—but the successful disarming of his casual swing was more than enough to make him smile outwardly. He allowed the moment to sink in. Hinata's toes were still digging into his stopped wrist, and he could feel the pressure she tried to apply with her chakra—a gentle 'fist' channeled through her feet. The chakra wasn't strong enough to disrupt Sasuke's network, but he could feel the _effort_ at least. They held firm in harmonic silence for a long moment, but eventually Hinata's leg pulled back and she went into a panicked crab-walk backward on all fours, putting some distance between herself and Sasuke and then scurrying up to her feet. She seemed to expect some kind of retaliation, but the retaliation didn't come.

"Good job," Sasuke said at last, looking down to his sword in the rubble. "That's a fantastic start." He held his hand out, and Hinata briefly saw with her Byakugan that he built a swell of chakra behind his left eye—and then his sword was in his hand without another movement. Instantly retrieved. His cloak didn't even flutter. Sasuke continued: "You've had your first real breakthrough—you obeyed your instinct. There was no hesitation or fear in that movement you just made. Could you feel yourself letting go?"

Hinata noticed that her breathing wasn't even fast; she had been so engrossed in her instinctive reaction that a strange calm had settled in her nerves. She had never done that particular move before, but somehow she had just known exactly what would happen if she tried. She couldn't read the future, but she still had _absolute_ _confidence_ in her actions. "W-what did you do to me, Sasuke...?" She asked, entirely certain that he had somehow planted a thought in her head. She knew the Sharingan was capable of such things, and she could think of no other explanation for the burst of action.

Sasuke chuckled, stepping closer to her as he tied his sword to his hip again, unraveling the ties around the sheathe that held it over the blade despite his violent swinging. "I didn't do that. It's exactly as I told you...you obeyed your instinct. I may have given you some encouragement, but what just happened was entirely because of _you_. Phase one of your training should be considered a success. You've broken out of your mold. From here, we can start exploring other options. _Advanced_ options."

"What kind of advanced options?" Hinata pondered, tilting her head. Her hands came up to her hair, playing with the dark strands nervously as Sasuke got nearer to her. She couldn't look away from him. "Are you going to teach me something new?"

Sasuke gave a nod. "Perhaps...depending on how much you already know. Tell me, Hinata...what is your chakra affinity?"

Hinata blushed a bit at the question, because she knew about Sasuke's affinity already— _everybody_ in the village knew about him. "Um," she began, hesitating a bit. "F-fire," She said, stuttering. There were only five natures, so it was hardly a big coincidence...but then she continued. "I've also been able to generate lightning chakra, too."

"Fire and lightning...interesting," Sasuke remarked, and by then he was close enough to touch her shoulder. He brought his hand up to clasp the region beside her neck. "I'll have an easier time teaching you since we share affinities. But...for now, let's call it an early day, Hinata." He gave her shoulder a kind little squeeze of congratulations. "You've made great progress so far, but your body is going to give out on you entirely if you push yourself any harder right now."

Hinata gave a quiet nod as she felt Sasuke's hand on her shoulder. She leaned her head toward it somewhat accidentally when she turned to look. The little brush set off a miniature spark in her mind, and she shivered with restraint. She rubbed her cheek against the back of his hand, feeling so very grateful for his support that she had nearly forgotten about everything else. Her skin touched his; she was sweat-lined and he wasn't, but the sensation was so familiar and comforting. Strong, warm, and dry. Even though the initial touch had been an accident, the way she lingered was completely purposeful. "Don't let them bother you, Sasuke," she said without thinking as she nuzzled him slightly with her smooth face.

Sasuke could feel her cheek on the back of his hand and it made him pause. Hinata wasn't looking at him, thankfully; her eyes were closed. He actually blushed across the tops of both cheeks when he felt the tender affection in the way she treated his simple grip. _That's right,_ Sasuke reminded himself. _She did the same thing when I wiped her cheek..._ Rarely did Sasuke lament his missing limb, but a part of him really wanted to offer a second hand to her, to touch her a little bit more, to feel the way she relaxed and melted under his basic attention. Despite how quick she was to accept his closeness, he knew that it wasn't her usual attitude with people. He had known of her for years; she always kept to herself and stayed arm's length away from others. While he thought to himself, she had said something, and her words had only just then finished processing as he soaked up the sensations of her cheek against his hand. "I don't let anyone bother me, Hinata..." he said it, and he thought he meant it.

" _They_ might hate you," she said openly, her eyes closed and one of her hands coming up to hold Sasuke's own against her shoulder, pinning him there gently. "But _I_ don't. They're scared of you, but _I'm_ not...not anymore." She was pretty clearly referring to the other villagers.

Sasuke couldn't resist stepping closer, his feet carrying him across the uneven ground to settle his body a few inches from Hinata's. He felt the soft grip on his hand, and when his shadow blocked the sun from Hinata's eyes, she opened them—and she looked upon him with the sort of tenderness that Sasuke hadn't seen in years. He had intended to speak, but she gagged him silent with that quiet gaze. Her Byakugan was pale, but when he looked closely he could see that her eyes weren't purely white—they were glazed with a thin layer of lavender, a lot like her shirt. Her eyes were puffy like she wanted to cry, but she didn't. She looked at him, and when it was clear that he couldn't find the words to respond, she opened up again.

"You've done bad things, Sasuke...I looked at your clan's history, just like you looked at mine..." She rubbed her thumb along the back of Sasuke's hand, raising her head up from its slant, meeting his eyes evenly. "Your name is written in a book that lists all of the most dangerous criminals in the village's history. It mentions how you defected from Konoha...and how you aided Orochimaru for years. You assaulted the Kage Summit and murdered a group of samurai; you killed Danzo Shimura, the interim Hokage, and you even threatened to kill the standing Five Kage during the fourth war..." She gulped, hoping she wasn't turning Sasuke away by reciting his crimes...but despite her worry, Sasuke stared at her with his mouth soft and half-open, like he was speechless in a good way. He looked rather normal like that. He wasn't so _fearsome_ anymore. "But none of that matters to me," she said with a feathery promise. "When I look at you, I see a person who was there to make me smile when I really _needed_ to smile. But you're even more than that; you're here, _now_ , just to make me strong...and it's only because I _want_ to be strong. You're doing me a _favor_ without a good reason to. I don't know why you care so much about me, Sasuke, but I'm _really_ glad that you do."

Sasuke felt a heat in his chest. She had told him something that he didn't let himself comprehend at first, but he eventually had to admit the truth—he _did_ care about her and he couldn't deny it. But, just like her, he didn't know _why_ he cared. Weren't they just coincidentally involved? He loved Sakura, but she got married...and Hinata loved Naruto, but _he_ got married. The two neglected lovers merely bounced together at a completely logical time—at the wedding that ruined both of their fantasies. The comfort that they gave to one another was only supposed to last for that one night, that single short meeting under the moon; it was only supposed to be enough to help them each to survive through the difficulty of being cast aside. It was never meant to persist. The temporary comfort was never intended to _grow_.

"You're a good person, Sasuke, no matter what anybody tells you," Hinata murmured, taking her hand down from Sasuke's at her shoulder. It seemed like that could have been the end of their closeness as she hesitated, but then she abruptly stepped inward and sealed the small gap that had remained between them. Her arms flung around Sasuke's upper back and his waist, and she grabbed him tightly, pulling his solid frame against her smaller, much softer shape. She molded against him and tucked her face into his chest, and then there was a powerful sob. The crying began, but it wasn't the kind of crying that Sasuke was used to. She said something through her quiet sobbing that jabbed the Uchiha's throat and caused it to swell inside: "You don't _deserve_ to be alone..."

Initially, Sasuke didn't know how to react. He had once been content with just the tender way she touched his hand, and he never expected more than that. A mere 'thank you' would have been utterly satisfying, as it was. To him, their training had just been something he _chose_ to do. It was a favor that she wanted from him, and one that he was willing to grant. He hadn't realized just how much it would mean to her, just like she might not have realized how much those words had meant to _him_. He felt himself tense in the grip of Hinata's tired arms, and the weight of her head on his chest was a pleasant reminder of her presence, along with the familiar and alluring scent in her hair. It reminded him of the violets in his recurring dream. He slowed his breathing down before he allowed his mouth to open: "But I'm _not_ alone, am I?" Sasuke warmly addressed, then his arm gingerly moved to cross Hinata's back, his hand nestling between her shoulders to hold her a little closer. "You're right here with me..."

Hinata's tear-stained face peeked up from her hiding place in the fabric of Sasuke's travel cloak, watery shivers crossing over the surface of her eyes. She looked frightened in a brand new way. She was trapped in Sasuke's tender embrace, and further trapped by her own arms around him. She took hold of him in a way that she hadn't really planned, but couldn't break away from. "Y-yes, I'm right here..." she said in a whisper, then tried to swallow her nerves but couldn't. The two were locked together, but not in a way that was uncomfortable. On the contrary, Hinata's sudden embrace had ignited something inside of her that made her want to keep squeezing him there and never let go. "S-so...was that unpredictable enough?" she asked, half-joking as she trembled with uncertainty and tried to alleviate her doubts.

Sasuke managed to laugh quietly in response to her callback to the training; it had already felt to him like an eon of time had passed since then. A fully new day began when they came together in such a simple, relaxed manner. It was just a hug, really; a hug between two people who had really _needed_ a hug. But it lingered for a long while, and soon they were both coming to the same conclusion—at roughly the same time—that it might _not_ have just been a hug. It might have been something that they had both been dreaming about for a long time; longer than just two weeks. The way the world's curtains closed around them and seemed to make everything vanish contributed to a _cosmic_ sensation of fulfillment. No, they weren't just sharing an embrace—there was a new hand present, a third, unrelenting force that held them together. That one moment began to feel like the event that their entire lives had been leading up to. Sasuke gazed upon Hinata, and she looked up at him in turn. They both felt it; they wore the startled wonderment plainly on their faces. Fate had guided them together by an extraordinarily complex path, but when they touched upon one another, the sense of _rightness_ could not be understated.

Sasuke was lost in Hinata's eyes, and Hinata was lost in his. Their faces pointed exclusively at each other, inching nearer. Their lips each seemed to venture toward a single point as if gravity itself had taken residence between them. _Just_ before their mouths had automatically brushed together, they both heard the same sound from a short distance away, and it completely destroyed the delicate moment. The curtain of fantastic solitude was pulled away and the truth of the world was once again brought into view.

"Well, what've we got _here_?" the snarky, small voice pierced the silence and tore the isolation away from the couple, forcing their embrace to end while Sasuke put his hand on Hinata's shoulder and pushed her behind him protectively. Within the next half-second, the same hand brought his sword out of its sheathe and wielded it high into the air, ready to strike toward the source of the sound.

Hanabi threw her hands up and yelped, falling on her rump in almost the exact same way that Hinata had done in the same situation not long before that. " _WaitnoIgiveup,_ _ **please!**_ " She sputtered too quickly to sound sane, scooting back and wincing like she was going to bite the dust at any moment.

Hinata peeked over Sasuke's shoulder from behind when she recognized the voice. "H-Hanabi...? W-what are you...? Did you _s-see_...?" She was only visible from the eyes-up when she peeked over his shoulder, so her cheeks weren't in sight—but her forehead blushed just fine to tell the truth of her embarrassment. But it was far more than embarrassment that Hanabi's arrival stirred. They had been _caught_. Hinata looked carefully at Sasuke, trying to judge his reaction to the intruder. She had felt a strike of intensity from him during that tiny moment of panic preceding the stillness. If he _had_ tried to kill Hanabi, nothing could have ever been done to stop him...but he didn't try. For a single split second he was ready to cut her clean down the middle, but he had ceased himself with his blade fully drawn and reeled up into the sky.

Sasuke's grip was tight upon his sword—Hanabi had snuck up on him somehow, and he was quickly lamenting his lack of attention. Once again, he was caught off-guard at the most inconvenient possible moment, and once again his instinct had nearly urged him to kill the unexpected visitor on the spot. He already missed the warmth of Hinata against his chest and encircled around his waist, but he could still feel her at his back. She was shivering with fear—fear of _him_ again. He felt the weight of the metal blade hoisted above his head, and he noticed the terrified clutch of Hinata's hands on both of his shoulders as she stood behind him to try to calm him down without words. He shuddered from head to toe and mentally quashed his desire to kill. Eventually, he lowered his arm and slid his sword back into the sheathe in place at his waist. "You're Hanabi Hyuuga," he said with slight irritation. "What are you doing here?"

Rather than answer Hinata's half-finished, startled questions, Hanabi's wide eyes were glued to Sasuke's unsettling calmness. He could have killed her and not even flinched, and she knew it. She spoke up with the best answer she could give: "I was just...looking for Hinata..." she began, wheezing and clutching her chest. They really _were_ sisters, looking almost identical when they were panicked on the ground in front of Sasuke. "I wanted to tell her...that Naruto and Sakura are back from their honeymoon..." She got a hold of herself quickly, then stood on two sure feet and crossed her arms aggressively. The fear was gone since the sword was put away, so she put on a brave front. "Anyway... _what in the heck is going on_ _here_?" She pointed an accusing finger toward her sister. "I thought you said it _wasn't_ a date!"

Hinata stepped out from behind Sasuke and bit the back of her pointer finger, playing with the loose skin between her teeth as she mumbled. "I-it wasn't..." she defended. "W-we're _training_ , that's all."

Hanabi's brow lifted; she felt a lot safer since Sasuke had opted for silence. As soon as she mentioned the married couple's return to the village, he bottled up. "That's a funny way to train..." Hanabi taunted, her lips puckering into an exaggerated kiss face. "Like _thiiiis_?" she mocked, squeezing her lips together and then giving her sister a wink.

Hinata didn't know which one of the two to look at, so she stared at the ground again—at least she did until she felt Sasuke's hand on the base of her chin turning her head up to face her sister. He whispered something quiet, something unassuming: "Eyes up, Hinata. Don't bow your head to _anyone_." And with that said, his hand left her chin and he started to walk toward Hanabi. He gave her a cold stare, one that demanded answers. Hanabi's crossed arms fell down to her sides and she took a worried step backward. Sasuke smirked at the shift in attitudes, as it happened so quickly back and forth. "You. Tell me where Naruto and Sakura are."

Hanabi blinked seven times in a second, then her words stuttered just as quickly to start. "T-they're probably still near the gate. Everybody's there welcoming them home."

Sasuke turned to face his student. "You should go see them, Hinata."

Hinata flexed her brows with mild confusion. "Just me? Aren't you coming, too?" She started to go as requested, but she didn't take her eyes from Sasuke and she walked slowly.

"No. I'm going to stay here," Sasuke replied and shook his head.

Hinata stopped her steps, then turned around and marched back toward Sasuke. Just like at the restaurant, she grabbed his hand tight and tugged gently. "No...that's not a good enough answer," she said while trying to sound tough.

Sasuke resisted being pulled, and his eyes narrowed. "I don't want to _see_ them right now."

Off to the side, Hanabi's mouth was gaping wide. Was Hinata seriously trying to drag _Sasuke Uchiha_ by the arm? "Sis, maybe you should..." she started weakly, but then she stopped when she saw their faces. There was no anger there, between the two of them. It was all _sadness_. She shut herself up and turned around, pretending not to pay attention to what was happening and falsely plugging her ears with her fingers.

Hinata had a strong clutch on Sasuke's wrist, and she was trying to look him in the eyes...but he kept turning his head away. She slumped her shoulders and let go of his hand, then gave a defeated huff. "O-okay, if that's how it is...I just don't want to go alone..."

Sasuke felt a bite in his chest, but he powered through it. He was resolute; he didn't want to be there for the greetings and renewed congratulations. He came up with a point he considered fair: "Your sister will be there. You won't be alone."

Hinata looked at Hanabi. The younger sister looked rather foolish pretending to have her ears covered as if Hinata didn't know her better than that. "My sister should probably go _home_..." Hanabi winced, but she kept pretending not to hear or see. It was a remarkably pitiful act.

Sasuke hummed. "Either way, we're done training for today. I'll see you again tomorrow." He was gathering up his belongings and slinging them over his shoulder by then, ready to depart.

Hinata whimpered; she didn't think she had the strength to face Naruto by herself and she let her desperation show. " _Please_ come with me, Sasuke..." The pathetic sound of her voice actually urged Hanabi to glance over her shoulder. She couldn't even _pretend_ not to hear such a thing.

Sasuke, too, was wrenched by the tone Hinata took on. Her warmth was still lingering against his chest and along his arm. He could still _feel_ her, and that sensation made it impossible for him to ignore her. His hand curled into a hesitant fist and his eyes closed tightly, along with his jaw. He truly didn't want to go...but _Hinata_ wanted him to go. He fought against the urge to say ' _okay, I'll go with you_ ,' but after hearing the pleading desperation, the fight didn't last very long: "Okay...I'll go with you," he said without much enthusiasm.

"R-really?" Hinata seemed to doubt him.

" _Really_ ," Sasuke said with more determination than at first. "Let's go...and bring your sister, too. I'd rather not have her poking around this place without supervision."

"Why not?" Hinata asked curiously while she tapped Hanabi's shoulder. That was the signal that told her to stop pretending to be deaf.

Sasuke took a breath, sighing out his answer. "There are dangerous secrets tucked away in this place...there's a reason why it's still here and hasn't been built over."

"O-oh...alright." Hinata cleared her throat and spoke up a little to make an announcement toward her present family. "Sasuke says you need to come with us, Hanabi."

Hanabi took her hands out of her ears and seemed pretty thrilled when Hinata invited her to come along after all. Sasuke led the way without saying anything else, and the trio exited the ruins together to head toward the gate of the village. It was time for them to welcome Konoha's latest, _greatest_ married couple home again.

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 **That's it for another chapter! I had a busy weekend, so this one is another that took longer than expected. Thanks to everybody who left reviews, follows, and favorites in the mean time. I continue to appreciate all of the support and interest I've gotten so far, as well as any I get in the future!**


	17. The True Homecoming

**Enjoy!**

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The crowd gathered near the gate was unlike anything Sasuke had ever seen; Naruto's return was treated as a gargantuan event. Kids were holding small flags with the hero's face emblazoned upon them, with backgrounds colored red and yellow and blue; parents were waving their hearts out and cheering. The crowd could be heard before it could be seen; the roar passed overhead and filled the sky with echoes and whistles. Sasuke, Hinata, and Hanabi were traveling in a close-knit trio with the youngest sister leading the way, cutting through the crowd and using her Byakugan to figure out the best path to take to get the closest to the famous couple.

Sasuke was following her, but he was also distracted by the intensity of celebration. As he walked through the crowded streets without bumping any shoulders, he realized that he was going completely unnoticed for the first time since his arrival. Nobody cared that the notorious Sasuke Uchiha was standing six inches away from them—everybody's focus was on Naruto Uzumaki, whether they could see him or not. The hero was everything to Konoha; he was their most powerful warrior, their most important diplomat, and their best friend. He knew the name and face of almost everybody in the village and yet he lived in what could be _generously_ called a hovel.

 _The kid I used to know has definitely changed_ , Sasuke thought to himself as he continued weaving through the threads left behind by Hanabi's deft guidance. Hinata was a pace behind Sasuke, sticking close and keeping her arms tucked to her chest. Her shoulders were scrunched, too, and her head was turned down—she must not have liked being a part of such a flock of excited people. Sasuke wasn't _quite_ the same way—he didn't like the crowd, but that was only because of how much he preferred silence and reflection. He wasn't much like Naruto. The mood of the _people_ fit the personality of Naruto, though. Rambunctious, excitable, outspoken, sunny and kind. There were smiles from left to right and everybody had their say amongst the jubilant chaos.

After wading through people for what seemed like a mile, the gate itself was finally in full view and the various colors of the civilian crowd slowly gave way to a more focused set of green vests with dark blue underclothes—many of the shinobi who wanted to make an impression upon the Hokage were dressed up and looking official toward the front of the gathering. Despite the exuberance of the day, Sasuke knew that many of those shinobi were running low on savings and seeking opportunities for work that simply weren't coming up. There were only so many jobs to be filled within the village, and shinobi were _plentiful;_ the demand for them had decreased, but the supply had only _increased._ New graduates were still being churned out of the academy, and older ninjas weren't retiring. That created quite a few problems with no easy fix. The most famous names got first pick for employment; many of the men and women who fought and nearly died in the fourth war had come home to find that only the _outspoken_ heroes were given any kind of special notice.

The favoritism wasn't fair, and Sasuke knew it. Unfortunately, he was in no true position to change things; he didn't have the money on his own to employ even a _third_ of the village's out of work shinobi. His clan had built considerable savings, and in light of Itachi's clandestine service to the village, those savings were securely locked away by the Third Hokage to be kept for Sasuke's own use in the future—Sasuke, though, had decided that those savings were too extravagant to use for just himself. He _kept_ the money, but it was still locked away even after his initial return to the village. He decided that it was too early to begin drawing from those reserves. When his clan was properly revived, he and they would need much of that money to rebuild the old Uchiha District and regain at least _some_ of their former glory. The second time around, things would be different—Sasuke wouldn't allow his clan to be ostracized and cast out a second time. He knew the history of his clan; he knew what events contributed the most to the rebellion and he wasn't going to let them happen again.

But that was going to be the future—in the present, Sasuke was still following Hanabi with Hinata at his back. The trio made it near the front of the crowd, where they could finally hear Naruto over the cheers and celebrations. All of it seemed so grandiose, so ecstatic. He had only been gone for two weeks, and yet the village was treating him like the last veteran returning home from a long war. A shortened head of spiked blonde hair was sticking out over the edge of the crowd. People of all kinds were going in for handshakes and hugs; cameras were flashing. Naruto and Sakura were a two-person parade as they waded through the dirt road leading into the village and finally crossed the threshold of the gate. Sasuke kept just out of easy view, lingering about four layers deep into the crowd with his eyes half-closed and his cloak draped over his whole self. Hinata was behind him, clinging to his shoulders like before, but her head wasn't peeking out that time.

Sasuke could feel how nervous she was just in the way her fingers clutched his shoulders. She was essentially hiding behind him, and he didn't mind so much. Her clutch was tight; her nails were a little bit long and dug into his cloak, but Sasuke kept his eyes forward and his body relaxed. He heard a bombardment of _welcome home, congratulations, great to see you, can I have a picture? Can you sign this for my kid?_ and all kinds of other greetings. Naruto's voice carried well, and the raspy loudness cut into the crowd and drew people closer whenever he enthusiastically received salutations and fulfilled requests. Sasuke could feel the gaps between people subtly narrowing around him as the crowd grew tighter, but his presence alone seemed to keep them distant from him whether they recognized him or not. Hinata was protected in the same way; there was an invisible aura of _don't get too close_ around both of them.

Naruto, at the epicenter of his own popularity, was holding Sakura's hand on one side and signing autographs and giving handshakes with his still-bandaged replacement limb on the other side. He had a couple of shadow clones at his back to carry the baggage they brought back with them—significantly more than what they left with. No doubt the denizens of the Land of Waves were just as receptive to him as the loyal members of Konoha, and had seemingly granted a few gifts. At least two of the suitcases were entirely new, freshly created and stuffed to the point of near-bursting. The clones fulfilled their purpose, and they ran off toward the house to deliver their baggage while the real Naruto stayed behind and allowed himself to be swarmed by onlookers and fans.

Sakura wasn't nearly so used to the attention; she looked as beautiful as ever but she was silent while she held Naruto's hand in hers, fingers locked. Her pink hair was tied behind her head in a small knot to keep it from blowing around too much or getting snagged by one of the branches lining the road they traveled. She was in a typical outfit; red on top with a lightly-colored off-white skirt and black pants leading down to dark boots. Her arms were exposed and pristine, and despite being so quiet and embarrassed, she was smiling huge and showing each one of her sparkling white teeth to the cameras.

Sasuke laid eyes on her again and realized that he wasn't ready to let her go yet. He got the urge to walk over to her and take one of her hands, to beg her for a second chance to make things right. In fact, he took the first step...but Hinata's hands clutched his shoulders harder and he caught a brief glimpse of a waking dream before his eyes—the violet was in a harsh wind—before he heard her voice whispering into his ear. "I can't do this," she quietly said to Sasuke, a voice laced with trembling and hesitation. He could feel the warmth of her breath on the base of his ear as she practically begged him from behind.

Sasuke swallowed down his own hesitation and straightened his face after a long breath. He turned his head over his shoulder, looking into Hinata's eyes from only a few inches up and away from her face. He whispered, but the softness of his speech somehow made the cacophony of the surrounding crowd seem small and insignificant. "You'll have to face him eventually, Hinata."

Hinata gave a skeptical nod to his words, but in response to his glance she took her hands off of Sasuke's shoulders and stepped back timidly like she thought she had offended him. Sasuke didn't know how irritated he looked—his feelings were still volatile when he saw the way Naruto and Sakura held hands so meaningfully, and that volatility translated directly to his eyes. In retrospect, the village hadn't seemed so bad during the two weeks of their absence, but Sasuke was beginning to feel the weight of their presence again. He had taken out some of his insecurity on Hinata just by staring, but he quickly deduced her reason for backing away and shut his eyes. "If you're not ready for this, then we can _both_ leave."

Hinata's eyes were blurry with the beginnings of tears. She had heard Naruto's voice, she had also seen him smiling and happy with Sakura using her Byakugan. The wedding was just a single day; a single moment in time that felt like a hurdle to be cleared. She thought that it was the worst moment of her life, but she had allowed it to pass. She was even starting to feel better. With the married pair away from the village, it was easier to _forget_ about them. As they returned and seemed to be even _more_ in love than when they left, Hinata realized that the wedding night wasn't merely a waist-high hurdle—it was the base of a mountain she had barely even begun to climb. The peak wasn't even in sight yet. "Y-yeah...let's go," Hinata said, turning to leave in a rush when a thought hit her. _Where's Hanabi?_

"Great to see you again! Say, do you know where Hinata's at!?" Naruto's voice reached every ear within a village block; he was chipper and enthusiastic like always. And of course it was Hanabi whom he was talking to. She just couldn't resist letting her admiration get the best of her.

"Yep, she's here! She's over..." A lingering pause that probably came with a pointed finger just out of view. " _There_! She's standing with Sasuke! See her?" She was talking directly to last people Sasuke and Hinata wanted to be known to. Hanabi always provided just the right amount of inconvenient timing and bratty insensitivity to make Hinata's (and now Sasuke's) life _interesting_. In combat she was stoic and direct; powerful and placid just like their father. Outside of her training clothes and amidst the general population, she seemed an awful lot more like an _annoying little sister_. She was front and center and shaking hands with Naruto, calling him her personal hero and grinning like a teenager with a crush until he eventually broke away to go see the people she had arrived with.

Sasuke was about to follow Hinata through the crowd to leave, but she stopped cold in front of him; she heard her name out of Naruto's mouth. And then Sasuke heard _his_ name out of Hanabi's mouth; he felt his jaw tense and his eyebrows scrunch. Being implicated by name made it a lot harder for him to walk away in good conscience. Knowing Naruto, he would have chased his elusive friend down anyway—there was no way of escaping the 'confrontation' anymore. With his body still and his head held high, Sasuke turned back around and allowed the sea of people to part around him as Naruto and Sakura walked toward him in tandem. The gladness on Sakura's face was a _small_ comfort, but the smile ultimately proved to be a painful reminder to Sasuke that she was no longer in love with him. He kept his expression empty, just as he had conditioned himself to do. Under his half-arm was his bag, filled with _all_ of his very few precious belongings.

"Sasuke! You're still around!" Sakura shouted elatedly, beating Naruto to the punch and releasing her husband's hand to run up to Sasuke and throw her arms around his midsection with great relief. Sasuke felt his body get pushed back when she collided with him, and he readjusted his footing against the impact. Sakura's grip was tight and unrelenting while Sasuke carefully set his hand on her shoulder. He kept the embrace polite with his single arm, preparing for the worst that was supposed to come; it _should_ have been a struggle for him to avoid getting carried away with the friendly affection. He couldn't pretend that her embrace was just like any other, right? But as he prepared himself to resist the magical allure of Sakura's closeness...he felt that the burden had lessened on its own.

"I made a promise, didn't I?" Sasuke answered to his former love interest after a short pause of confusion, and he took his arm down from her shoulder with choppy reluctance. "Welcome home, Sakura," he whispered while his nerves tried to process a bizarre sensation. The hug felt _different_ than how it had felt in her apartment two weeks prior. On the day after the wedding, it took all the willpower that Sasuke could handle not to take her by the hair, lean her back, then kiss her with all his might. Strangely, after her return on a bright and clear summer day at the gate to Konoha, that urge to go further was no longer implicitly _there_. The primal desire had gone away. The _pain_ hadn't vanished—sorrow still throbbed with each beat of his heart, and his eyes still weren't confident enough to look upon her hand and see the wedding ring without quickly pulling away from the reality of it. No, nothing about Sasuke's _sadness_ around Sakura had changed. She still deeply affected him.

What _had_ changed was that he had been embraced by _another_ person that day. With Sakura's warmth on his chest and arm, he couldn't stop his mind from comparing that warmth to what he had felt from Hinata just a short while earlier. After a stunned moment of silence, he concluded that there _was_ no true comparison. Sakura was a pleasant woman, a beautiful one with strength and warmth and a compassionately beating heart, absolutely. Truthfully, Sasuke could think of no ill words to attribute to her...and yet the connection he felt with her was _nothing_ like what he had felt earlier that day. He felt friendship, but was that all it had ever really been? Was the embrace really different, or had the touch he shared with Hinata simply enlightened him to a grand new level of connection? He knew Sakura fairly well—he knew almost nothing about Hinata aside from her fighting style. When he touched Hinata, though, he felt like there was something running deep inside of him that had finally woken up.

Sasuke felt like he was just looking dumb and confused in front of the pink-haired girl while he thought about it. Sakura, _supposedly_ the love of his life, was right there before him with a gleeful smile and blushing cheeks, and she even _said_ something to him when she backed out of the embrace—but he didn't hear her words; his mind was overcome by his own thoughts. His ears were crowded with the sound of his own heartbeat as he tried to piece together what his own thoughts had spontaneously become. He was fortunate enough to be good at reading lips, so he still made out what she had said without asking her to repeat herself: _"Have you decided leave now that you've kept your promise? Or are you going to stay a while longer?"_

Sasuke clenched his fist and rubbed the tips of his teeth against one another in his mouth, feeling the grit of dirt across the enamel as the result of a long day spent training in the dusty ruins of his old neighborhood. "I'm going to stay for at least a _while_ longer," he carefully responded. "Something has come up on the schedule, and I've decided that I'd like to be a part of it."

Meanwhile, Naruto was trying to get Hinata's attention through the people who were moving in on him. "Oy, Hinata! Where are you at?" He was looking for her, but couldn't see her where she was lurking behind Sasuke's broad, cloaked frame. The Uchiha made a good barrier, and he wasn't going to sell Hinata out if she wasn't ready.

Sakura tilted her head, and a few strands of hair that hadn't been tied at the back swished adorably askew of her forehead. Even _that_ heartmeltingly-sweet look wasn't quite enough to get Sasuke's mind off of the dark-haired girl still halfway-hiding behind him—at a slight distance, now, backing away slowly from her biggest fear. Fortunately for Hinata, Naruto was bogged down from all sides again before he could reach her, and he was being pulled relentlessly into—and being swallowed up by—a pit of rabid fans who wouldn't let him get a word into the conversation. He didn't seem too _bothered_ by the fact, though—one of the things he had always craved was the acknowledgment of the village, and now that he finally had it he wasn't going to _dream_ of letting it go. Sakura looked toward her spouse and laughed, covering her mouth with a hand and letting her shoulders rise in good humor. With Naruto pulled away, she looked back to Sasuke and regained her curiosity: "So, what's come up? Nothing _bad_ , I hope."

Sasuke hummed. There _were_ bad things at work in the village. Inequality had always been an issue, but it was becoming an even larger rift as the less-skilled or less-famous shinobi were brushed aside and left out in the cold by the civilian population, and even by the Hokage's office, however inadvertently. The few missions left to assign were given to younger shinobi and veterans. The people in the class of ninja who were old enough to survive on their own, but who had names too obscure to compete with the major clans, were suffering. A small twinkle of guilt ricocheted through Sasuke's throat when he thought about the three men he had left beaten and tied in the alleyway. They _were_ harassing a young boy, sure—and they absolutely deserved punishment. But what had brought them to such a point? The attitudes they carried should have prevented them from becoming shinobi in the first place; something must have happened to change them after their graduation. Sasuke shook his head and cleared his mind, deciding that it wasn't the time to question himself.

Sakura was growing concerned following Sasuke's long silence, and she repeated her question with a worried slant in her brow. " _Is_ it something bad...?"

Sasuke shook his head, but answered cryptically. "No...at least not _yet_. It's important, though. I should let Kakashi explain it to you and Naruto both. He knows more about it than I do; I've only agreed to play my part as needed."

"Play your part?" Sakura asked, trying to get clarification which didn't come. "Now that you mention him," Sakura moved on, changing the subject to get the conversation rolling again. "Where _is_ Kakashi-sensei?"

Sasuke took a moment to look around. He knew that the Hokage shouldn't be far from such a grand event, but he couldn't see the iconic silver hair anywhere among the crowd of people swarming Naruto. "I'm not sure. He has a lot of work to do, so he might be locked in his office. You should go to see him soon—he'll be wanting to talk to you and your..." Sasuke trailed off, his voice getting quieter. He was trying to force the word out of his mouth, but it was fighting him. He was going to have to get used to it eventually, so why not start right away? "... _husband_." It came out a bit harsh, but Sakura either didn't notice or she gave Sasuke a pass on account of the tension of their last meeting.

Sakura nodded, turning to look through the waves of hair in the crowd, trying to spot the one dot of blonde hidden within. Naruto had gotten pulled significantly far away by a long line of his admirers, and he couldn't resist the allure of signing every poster, kunai, and replica headband he was presented with. Sakura sighed in a happy way: "We'll see the Hokage _eventually_ , once the crowd clears out...everybody wants a piece of Naruto now that we're back. I'm going to miss the solitude of our hotel room..."

Sasuke chuckled, then looked over his shoulder. Hinata wasn't behind him anymore, and he found himself wondering where she had gone. He hadn't noticed her departure since he was busy talking with Sakura. He asked the impulsive question without thinking about how it sounded. "Sakura...did you see where Hinata ran off to?"

"Hinata?" Sakura felt a curious warmth creep over her cheeks and down the back of her neck. _Why is he asking about her? Why was he_ _ **standing**_ _with her?_ She momentarily thought back to the wedding photo; the near-identical shook her head with a thoughtful smile, running her fingers down the side of her cheek in thought. "No, I didn't see her leave...in a crowd like this, she could be three feet away and she'd _still_ be hard to spot." With the mention of the crowd, Sakura couldn't avoid also mentioning the _cause_ of the crowd. "Naruto is pretty amazing, isn't he?"

Sasuke fought the urge to make a sarcastic remark and found a comfortable middle-ground. "He's done amazing _things,_ at least." He looked around at the swarm—every soul was there to meet and welcome Naruto back home. There was a glaring question in Sasuke's head that he was compelled toward voicing: "If you don't mind me asking, why do the two of you live in such a small apartment? With this many fans, surely Naruto has enough money coming in to afford something better, right?"

Sakura sighed, setting her hands on her hips and making triangles with her arms on either side of her waist. "You know, he was such a blowhard as a kid, always going on about how he'd be rich and famous some day...but nowadays, he's a lot more modest inside. He'll sign autographs, he'll make appearances, but he won't ask to get _paid_ for it. He doesn't think it's right to ask for something in return; he's just glad to be everyone's hero. We don't need much more than we have, anyway—we've got each other." She smiled toward the dark-haired man asking the question and her hand came up to pat him on the shoulder, as if she were trying to soothe jealousy that was boiling within. "Speaking of apartments, have you settled in anyplace or are you still sleeping in the trees?"

Sasuke felt awkward having the simple discussion with simple questions, just the same as always. The sense of unease was _especially_ prominent with Sakura—he wanted so _badly_ for her to stop making small-talk and mention her own love for him. He wanted her to give him some sense of validation. He held onto the hope that she had only turned to Naruto because of desperation and loneliness. While it would have still been painful to know that she moved on from him to somebody else, he preferred impulsive desperation to the idea that she was _destined_ to marry Naruto no matter what. Two years, she said she waited—and two years seemed like a long time. But was it long _enough_ to make such a significant change? Sasuke wondered, sometimes. As Naruto was moved away from the gate by his tide of fame, his entourage followed behind. A few stragglers had been jettisoned from the crowd and were still scattered about, most holding their freshly-signed souvenirs proudly in their hands. The majority had moved along and left Sasuke semi-alone with Sakura. Kids and adults alike were completely _charmed_ by the goofball, Naruto Uzumaki. He was the highlight of their week. Sakura was ultimately just the girl he was married to—notable, but not crowd-pleasing to the same extent.

Even with the crowd thinned out, Hinata was nowhere to be seen, nor was Hanabi. They had possibly both wandered off together while Sasuke had his back turned. If that was how things were, then he didn't really mind. "I found a place to stay in a further part of town," Sasuke started to answer the question, looking around the village. Thing were nice near the gate; the road was paved and the buildings were clean and well-built. The path was slanted slightly downward with the occasional flat landings to turn off onto leveled roads that linked to other blocks and districts. Judging the book by its cover would lead a visitor to think that Konoha was the most prosperous and gorgeous village in the world, from top to bottom and wall to wall. Sasuke knew better; he had been _living_ in its underbelly, a fair ways off from the gate but not far enough to feel separate from the rest of the village. "The place I'm in is pretty nice," Sasuke added dishonestly, as if to head off the next question.

"Where is it?" Sakura prodded, putting her hand horizontally over her forehead to block the sun from her eyes while she scoped out the village, as if she thought she was going to be able to see it from where she stood.

"I'll tell you later. You should catch up with Naruto; his fans are dragging him away, and if you don't go now, they might just steal him away forever." He managed a wink. "We can have a longer talk later." Sasuke was calm, he was cool, he was confident—and he was _desperately_ hoping for Sakura to walk away so that he could relieve the tension in his neck and jaw. _Making_ the two week promise had been easy, and he kept it with only slight difficulty. For that trial period, he didn't have to live every day in the same village as Naruto, the man who had married _his_ Sakura. During that time, he was able to treat Konoha as just another village in his travels; there was nothing that forced him to face his own future until Sakura came back and threw her arms around him. Again, without meaning to, he thought of Hinata's embrace and how easy it had been for him to return it. Had his lips been moving closer to hers? And were hers moving toward _his_ as well? Thanks to Hanabi's interruption, he would probably never know for sure. He might have just imagined the whole thing.

Sakura nodded to Sasuke's suggestion, but before she complied and left him alone, she turned to him and put her hand carefully on his cheek. She had soft hands, though she was wearing leathery gloves that made it difficult to feel the real thing. "Thanks for staying, Sasuke. It means everything to me. _And_ to Naruto." Her fingers fell down Sasuke's cheek and then left his face entirely. "I'll talk to you again after the celebrations die down a bit." Then she turned and waved outward, calling out to the mob that was vanishing around a corner near the base of the main road's slope. Sasuke watched her go on fast feet, and by the time she was a speck of pink and red amongst the dozens of others, he willed himself to look away.

"She's back," Sasuke said quietly to himself and the wind. " _They're_ back." He had to convince himself that it was true. The implications were too heavy; his words and promises felt meaningless against his own relentless desire to escape. He started to walk in an opposite direction. _Any_ direction; he didn't really care which, yet. The few stragglers from the crowd had begun to leave, too. The village's entry gate was oddly deserted in the aftermath, which was another thing that suited him fine; still, though, he felt like he was being _watched_. He had a pretty good idea of what that meant, but he didn't let it stop him. The gate was _right there._ All he had to do was take the first step outside, and he could put it all behind him. He chose _that_ direction. He hadn't been outside the village in the entire two weeks, which was the longest he had ever stayed in one place since the initial start of his travels. There was still more to do, more to see, more to _forget_.

The gate was enormous, even while he looked at it as an adult. The first time he left the village and didn't look back, it seemed so daunting and dangerous, but back then he was determined to become powerful no matter the cost. As a young man, grown up but still getting stronger by the day, he couldn't claim to want _power_ any longer. He knew what he was capable of—he knew that there were no threats left to him in the real world. So what would be the _purpose_ of leaving this time? Did he want to deny the significance of his former life in the village? Did he want to force himself to look away from the happiness of his friends? Was it the _embrace_ and what it could have _meant_ that drove him away...? His feet were traveling on their own, and each step brought him nearer to the threshold of the village. Three more steps, and he could have been out of there forever. But he hesitated.

He saw a violet growing out of the dirt before his eyes, right along the village limits. He brought his hand up to slide down his face, then shook his head...and it was gone. A hallucination? Things were getting out of hand. He had already figured out what the violet represented—clearly, it was his mind's way of telling him that Hinata meant something to him, even from the very first day. She was a good reason to stay. So why was it so difficult for him to _admit_ that he didn't want to leave the village anymore? In his head, his _active_ thoughts, he still had grand plans to abandon Konoha in the dead of night and settle someplace far away. Someplace without people, without drama. Without heartbreak.

He kept looking out of the village; the watchman's post that was off to the side of the entrance was seemingly empty. Travel wasn't being harshly restricted, anymore—there was no reason to suspect any foul play from visitors, especially on the day of Naruto's return. If any major moves _were_ going to be made, then they would have probably been made during the hero's absence. _Is that why Sakura urged me to stay? So that I could protect the village while they were gone? Regardless, I've kept my promise...and staying for the tournament isn't worth the effort anymore._ He bottled up any thoughts he might have had about Hinata and took the first step out of the gate.

The thoughts became real and unavoidable when a voice piped up from his right. "C-can I come with you, Sasuke?" Hinata asked from a hiding place not far from the gate. She must have wiggled her way through the crowd and hidden herself as soon as she saw that Naruto was distracted earlier. Sasuke knew already on some level that she was there, but...somehow he had forced himself to ignore her obvious aroma in the air. It was a pleasant scent, even though she had just finished training on a hot day.

Sasuke turned his head to look upon her; he couldn't ignore the question. "Do you even know where I'm going?" he asked her. She was occupying the empty watch kiosk, her head peeking out from behind its short counter. She must have been crouching on her knees and hiding within the tiny wooden cabin all along.

"Do _you_ know where you're going?" Hinata softly inquired through a slight laugh, then she stood up and stepped out from her hiding place by climbing smoothly out of the front window. Was that _playfulness_ in her voice, or was Sasuke imagining things again? She had always been fairly reserved, but in that moment she seemed so relaxed and open. It didn't last; the lighthearted joy was overwritten by Sasuke's serious answer.

"Not _yet_ , no. I've just decided that I don't want to be _here_ anymore." Sasuke seemed sure of himself as he spoke, though there were doubts inside as always.

"Why not?" Hinata questioned. The playfulness was gone. She seemed concerned and full of sorrow. "Is it because of Sakura?"

Sasuke nodded; no sense hiding it. He was about to disappear, right? "Yes...it is. I'm sorry that I can't continue to train you, Hinata...but you've already done very well. Keep following the advice I gave you, and you'll continue getting stronger without me."

Hinata smiled with regrets. "I will..." she said, and her thoughts wandered to something else. She spoke like she was confessing something: "I'm such a _coward_ , Sasuke." She declared it openly, her hands folded in front of her waist, regally. Although she was chastising herself, she wasn't looking at the floor. She wouldn't quite admit to it, but the way Sasuke's hand had lifted her chin in front of Hanabi left an impression. "I couldn't even say _hello_ to Naruto...I hid behind you until he was pulled away. I thought I was braver than that."

"That's not cowardice, Hinata. It's something a lot harder to explain. Actually, I wanted to leave right away, too," Sasuke admitted. "Even before you said anything. And I don't just mean I wanted to leave the welcome party...I want to leave the _village_. Today was a _good_ day at first, and then I saw Sakura's face, and all of the anger came back to me. I only stayed here for two weeks because I promised to _her_ that I would..."

"Is that the only reason, Sasuke?" Hinata asked while folding her hands together and raising them up beneath her chin like she was nervously praying. "Your promise is really the _only_ reason you stayed?"

Sasuke trembled on the inside. Hinata was asking a question that should have had an easy answer, but it didn't _feel_ that simple. "At first..." Sasuke began. He was still just outside of the gate, and Hinata was still standing just behind the spot where the road became paved. _That_ was the line to cross. Whether one was inside or outside of the village was determined by that tiny strip of change from loose dirt and grass to level pavement. "That was the only reason at _first_. The same day I made the promise, I went to see the Hokage. He told me about the upcoming tournament; he said that I was the very first person he notified and that my participation was very important. That's when he gave me the mission to deliver the invitations to the village's other prominent clans."

Hinata gave a slow nod. "I'm glad he gave you that mission, then..." she said while keeping her voice down. She was only a few steps away from Sasuke, but the distance felt like a canyon. "Because that's why you came to find me at the graveyard, right?"

Sasuke could have lied and said yes, but he gave Hinata more consideration than that. "N-no," he muttered with less confidence than he meant to have. He was sure of his answer, but he wasn't sure that it was the right decision to be _honest_ about it. He wanted to keep walking; he wanted to disappear from the village. Being truthful with Hinata meant being truthful with himself, and that meant that he probably wasn't going to let himself leave. "That's not why I found you. I could have taken the invitation to your family's residence at any point." He felt an invisible tension in his missing left limb. He used that phantom hand to squeeze a strong fist and work his nerves down to a state of calm without giving himself away. "I came to you there because I wanted to find _you,_ and _just_ you."

Hinata had been doing so well until that point; she was keeping her head up, and keeping her cheeks white. Suddenly, she felt the total attention of Sasuke, and it was all for her, nobody else; it didn't belong partially to Hanabi, nor to her association with Naruto; not even her affiliation with the Hyuuga clan was what sparked the attention—it was all _hers_. Her head tilted down and her eyes were facing the threshold of the road in front of her feet. Her face was hotly red, leaving the territory of watermelon and crossing over into fields of dark cherry. "W-why did you want to find me?"

Sasuke took a deep breath, tilting his chin up and looking just over Hinata's head. He couldn't look her in the eyes, even if she _were_ facing him directly instead of the stone at her feet. "I've been having dreams, Hinata... _visions,_ even. Sometimes, I dream of Naruto and Sakura, and it fills me with rage...but other times, I have a different dream. A _peaceful_ dream. And when I have _this_ dream, I can sleep all the way through the night." Sasuke felt somewhat vulnerable as he began to discuss his dream, but there was nobody else around to hear, and he had been wanting to tell her. The road was quiet for a mile, and the rest of the village was still following Naruto home and making a ton of noise in the distance. "I sometimes see it while I'm _awake_ , too. The day I found you, it's because you were infecting my thoughts...in my mind, you're a flower, Hinata. You're a violet. A violet that's completely by itself. I had to see you to put my mind at ease."

Hinata was still blushing, her body quivering subtly from face to ankle. Her toes flexed in her open-toed boots and her throat bulged with a heavy gulp. It was one thing to dream of Sasuke's eyes at night, but to know that he had been dreaming of _her_ , too, was simply eerie. "A violet that's completely by itself...?" Hinata wondered aloud. "I'm _not_ by myself, though...not in the same way _you_ are. And you know you still don't _have_ to be alone, Sasuke."

Sasuke smirked sardonically. "It's _better_ if I'm alone, Hinata. This village doesn't want me; even my friends only seem to _pity_ me. I'm an Uchiha, after all...love and friendship are _dangerous_ when I'm involved—isn't that what the books are saying about my family nowadays?"

Hinata winced. Her tongue rolled in her mouth and pressed against its roof; she ran the roughness of her taste buds over her gums while she considered the ramifications of speaking up again. Sasuke had admitted to dreaming about her—was it okay for her to confess to what she had done before that? She wanted him to stay, but she knew better than to beg. She was too _strong_ to drop to her knees and plead, right? She settled for a question: "Why did you keep it, Sasuke?"

Sasuke's forehead flexed slightly. "Keep what?"

"That name card in your cloak..." Hinata's Byakugan was active again; she had checked briefly and saw that he was still carrying her creation close to his heart. "It's just paper, right? Why haven't you gotten rid of it?"

Sasuke's hand came up instinctively to cover the firm placard within his cloak, holding it near to his chest. "It doesn't matter," he said rather defensively. "It's just a memento. I can't exactly throw my own clan's emblem in the trash, can I?"

"Do you know what that card _means_ , Sasuke?" Hinata was reaching out with her words, though her hands were held close to her chest.

"Isn't it just a reservation tag?" Sasuke fished the object out of his pocket and looked at it. It was clean and shiny, laminated with a thin, transparent film of wax or plastic. "It was on a chair at the reception, so..."

Hinata nodded. "That's right. It was there to let you know that there was a place for you." She took a breath. " _I'm_ the one who made it; I gave it to the Hokage so he could lay out for you if you came...I wanted you to feel welcome, since I knew you _wouldn't,_ at first."

Bypassing the immediate sense of disbelief, he instead assumed that she was telling the truth and addressed her curtly. "Why?" He blinked, then brought his gaze up from the tag to the woman claiming to have made it. "Why would _you_ have made this for me?"

Hinata pursed her lips, murmuring with very little confidence. "Because it felt _right_...why did you _keep_ it?"

Sasuke almost gave the same answer that she did, but when he felt his lips start to part, he clamped his teeth together and resisted. He collected another, dodgier answer instead: "I don't _know_ , Hinata. Is the reason really important?"

"I guess not...but nothing has changed since then," Hinata said quietly. She stepped over the threshold and was outside of the village with him. It was only by an inch, but it mattered. "That card is still meant for you, and _only_ you...and it means that there's a place for you in Konoha."

Sasuke divided his attention between the tag, the village, and Hinata herself. He fell silent for a pretty long while, and in the end of the quiet his hand squeezed the small, rectangular fold tightly—but not tightly enough to bend or disfigure it. "Hinata, this isn't just about having a place for my own sake. It's about the good of the village; while I'm here, people are scared."

"But they don't _have_ to be." Hinata was shifting her weight from one foot to the other in a slow rhythm, antsy. She was hoping to get through to Sasuke, and fearing that he would turn to leave at any moment. "You said that you want what's best for the village...and I think having you here is _good_ for us. Being here is good for _you_ , too. People will be against you for a while, I know...but you've changed."

"Maybe," Sasuke huffed, not really specifying which part he was referring to. He spent a moment thinking, and Hinata left it in silence. "If I leave, are you going to try to come with me?"

Hinata paused. She thought of Naruto; of the crippling denial that overtook her when he started to come her way. She thought of Hanabi's well-meaning but painful reminders, she thought of Ko's paranoia, and of her father's constant disapproval. She imagined facing Naruto and feeling the longing, the unfulfilled love. He would know something was wrong, but she knew that she wouldn't be able to tell him—she would have to wallow in her unrequited love for the rest of her life. She then thought to her training with Sasuke and realized that those grueling days were the most enjoyable ones she had had for months. With the exception of the Hokage, everybody from the village had been treating her like just another Hyuuga—even Kiba, one of her trusted teammates, seemed to distrust her judgement when it came to Sasuke. Was she _wrong_ for making that hopeful judgement? There was only one way to find out. "Yes...I _do_ want to come with you, Sasuke."

The moment felt uncomfortably familiar to Sasuke. It was over seven years ago; he was standing in front of Sakura and she was begging him not to leave. It was dark that time, with leafy shadows blocking the moonlight and Sakura's tears dropping into the little streaks of silvery illumination in between to sparkle as they fell. He had felt a pull to stay, that night—but his drive to earn revenge was stronger. He had knocked Sakura unconscious and laid her down before leaving, and he never expected to return. A long time after that, Sasuke had _gotten_ his vengeance, though not in the way he would have liked. Finding out the truth about his brother created a void in the front of his mind; all the vengeance and hatred that had once filled that place had been emptied out. It was soon replaced by the desire for vengeance against _others_ ; he achieved that, too. Danzo ended up dead at his feet. And even _then_ , Sakura was there, begging him to come back—or to take her with him. Every time Sasuke left, Sakura wanted to go along...but he knew better than to let her do it. He had said _you'll only slow me down,_ or _this has nothing to do with you._ Really, though, when all the layers of deception and malice were stripped away, the simple truth of the matter was that Sakura was too important to her family and friends—Sasuke's conscience, even at his worst, couldn't bear the thought of taking her away from them, both for their sake _and_ hers.

It was for that very same reason that Sasuke would have to deny Hinata's desire to come with him. He thought about it; he studied her face, sloped and smooth with a trembling lower lip. She didn't have the confident stance of Sakura, nor the rough, boisterous voice. Hinata was a softer touch in every regard, and she had precision in her movements that Sakura never did. They were two different girls with two very different backgrounds, strengths, weaknesses, appearances, and preferences. Almost nothing about them was the same, but there was at least _one_ important thing—they both wanted Sasuke to stay. And he was beginning, at long last, to realize why.

"You can't leave Konoha with me, Hinata," Sasuke said, and he watched her eyes droop down. She was just going to accept it. Determined, but still willing to respect the decisions of others—that was another key difference. Sakura wasn't so accepting. Just like Naruto, she was one to believe that a person could be _forced_ to change their mind just by shouting loudly enough and hitting hard enough. Admittedly, Naruto had an impressive record for success in such things, but it wasn't the right answer _every_ time.

Hinata cemented her acceptance with a nod that was slow to start. "Alright..." She was reluctant, but decisive. "Thank you for training me...and for spending other time with me, too. I r-really liked sharing dinner with you, especially...please take care of yourself, Sasuke."

Sasuke smiled on both sides of his mouth when he felt the genuineness of her response. His words had been something of a tease; a test to see how she might react. She clearly wanted him there, but she also wanted him to do what he thought he needed to do. Sasuke could see it in the way she peered up at him with a small, real, but wholly saddened smile. He hoped to make her smile a bit wider, with more cheer: "I never got to finish what I meant to say," he began with a toying inflection. He knew it was a cliché, but he was more than willing to risk seeming unoriginal for the sake of brightening the face of his fairly-new friend. "You can't leave with me...because I've decided that I'm going to stay in the village after all."

Hinata _did_ smile wider; her teeth showed through from between her lips. She had a lingering ring of dried sweat on her lavender shirt around her chest and neck, but she didn't care. She was just happy to hear Sasuke say those words. She looked down at her feet, but not out of shame or embarrassment. "Naruto had a lot people here to welcome him back, even though he wasn't gone very long..." She stepped backward, carefully putting her toes behind the hair-thin border, feeling solid road underneath again. She was inside Konoha once more. She reached a hand out toward Sasuke, fingers open and beckoning toward him. "You may not have the whole village here to cheer your name, but...let _me_ welcome you back home, Sasuke Uchiha." She held her hand out, and her fingers were shivering in the warm air. A breeze passed by and sent her hair flopping back and forth a bit gracelessly.

Sasuke stood there in silence, watching her hand until the winds calmed and the heat of the sun was able to cook his heavily-padded shoulders without the reprieve of a passing cloud. He thought about the events since his return; nothing major, nothing climactic. Naruto offered to beat up anybody who didn't want Sasuke around; Sakura had forced Sasuke's hand by urging him to make a two-week promise at a moment when his emotions were volatile. That was just her way; go for the throat. Kakashi, ever the diplomatic one, tried to _bribe_ him to stay with talks of the upcoming tournament and a fancy new job offer. It all felt like some organized plot to hold him in the village against his will; if one were to dangle enough shiny incentives and emotional guilt in front of him, even a notorious Uchiha could be coerced. Hinata, though—sweet, quiet Hinata—was there with her hand outstretched to invite him home...but she wasn't bribing him or trying to force him to accept. Several people had _told_ Sasuke that they wanted him to stay—but only Hinata had been able to make him _feel_ earnestly welcome.

Sasuke laughed modestly in a single exhale, then put his hand into Hinata's. She had a softer grip than she did when she was trying to drag him, and that went along with her soothing attitude. If Sasuke had chosen to leave, Hinata wouldn't have resented him—she would have cherished the time they spent and accepted that life was full of choices. But Sasuke _didn't_ choose to leave. He had finally chosen to stay, and for the first time in a long time, he wasn't being _coerced_ to make a decision, either. Even as her hand held his and he locked eyes with her, the next step was his to take. And he took it. With a single thump of a foot into the borders of Konoha, Sasuke felt like he was at last coming home for good. His welcome party wasn't grand and noisy like Naruto's, but it was exactly what he wanted. "It feels good to be home," Sasuke said quietly to Hinata as he squeezed her hand. Her fingers were slightly cold against his; he felt compelled to warm them, so he kept her palm in his grasp.

"Welcome home, Sasuke," Hinata whispered with a satisfied glint in her pale eyes. The moment carried on for a few seconds, and it could have turned into another embrace if Hinata's mind didn't snap to a sudden, fairly urgent thought. "Oh, I should find Hanabi. I never mentioned to her that it would be bad if she told my family that I'm training with you...Father wouldn't like it very much, and neither would Ko..."

Sasuke gave a slow nod. "Yes, let's track her down together...then maybe the three of us should sit down and discuss what happened today." There was more to it than just the training, Sasuke knew—Hanabi had seen something that he, himself, was still unsure of. What did they look like from the outside during that moment of spontaneous togetherness? What would a girl like Hanabi go around saying about something like that? What did _he_ think about it, himself? Was the moment exactly what it _felt_ like, or just a single blip in time that could never be grasped again? Was it already over? Would it ever come again?

As Sasuke asked himself a half-dozen questions, he delved further into the village. Hinata was at his side...and he hadn't yet let go of her inviting hand.

* * *

 **Sorry again for the slight delay. I had another busy week with Father's Day to cap it all off. I hope you all liked this one. I want to briefly mention how much I've loved writing this story so far. I have big plans for the future of it all; for now, let me know what you thought about this chapter. Good, bad, neutral? Anything is awesome.**

 **I'd like to thank everybody who reviewed the previous chapter; there were 28 different reviews for it! That's a record for this story by a huge margin. I'm so thrilled that you all liked it that much!**


	18. The Targeted Heiress

**Enjoy!**

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Hanabi had gotten pretty far from the gate. While her sister hid behind Sasuke, and Sasuke was in turn distracted by Sakura, the younger sibling was following along with Naruto's entourage and giving the occasional cheer or whistle. Like the rest of the village did, Hanabi saw Naruto as a hero above all other heroes. Fossilized legends of history could never hope to compete with the accomplishments of that peculiar young man, as he was _living_ and _breathing_ in the most present of present days; he was so very _real_. Hanabi could see him, she could smell him, she could touch him—Naruto _existed_ , and in addition to that, he was home again. The younger Hyuuga heiress was taking full advantage of her daytime break from training to follow her impulses. Every morning and every night consisted of constant battling with her father, but every fair-weathered afternoon meant brief spouts of freedom. She could do whatever she chose to do. And on that day, after Naruto's homecoming parade ended at Ramen Ichiraku, Hanabi chose to continue on with the celebration.

The shop was owned and operated by Teuchi, an older man with small, crease-laden eyes and a ballooned face that made him appear perpetually jolly. He was serving up small cups of ramen at no charge in order to celebrate Naruto's wedding and safe return to Konoha. Hanabi decided to get one of the cups for herself, and after waiting for several long minutes in a line that was split along three separate queues, she had gotten to the front and placed her one-piece order. Only a handful of seconds later, "Order seven-hundred eighty-six!" was heard. One of the young women working the stand called out, then rang a bell and repeated herself. That was Hanabi's number, and she eagerly accepted what was given. As Hanabi stepped out of line and blew on the cup to cool down its perfectly-prepared noodles, she took a look around. Naruto was sitting at a courtesy table not far from the restaurant, but he was bogged down by more fans, this time wanting him to sign their empty cups. Three years had passed, and still he was treated like royalty. Konoha was a great place for a hero like him to live.

Hanabi broke away from the crowd at that point, wandering through the village with dabs of water on the corners of her eyes. She yawned, mouth gaping and sleepy, and she dug around in her cup of ramen to finally take a bite with her pair of chopsticks. The flavor was a bit pedestrian compared to the cuisine of the Hyuuga estate's master chefs, but that was exactly why she wanted to have a cup. She was starting to get _tired_ of all the prim and proper behavior befitting of a princess like herself. She was dressed plainly, a sleeveless shirt that was a bit baggy around the chest and waist, yellow like a sunflower and flourished with little ribbons of brown decoration that started at the lower hem and curled around to taper off at her midsection. Her pants were a dark brown, filling out the sunflower motif. Her sandals were thin and made of wood—a personal preference, as many people preferred a fashionable and functional rubber sole for the sake of greater flexibility. She didn't plan on getting into any fights that day, so rigid wood would do just fine.

She guzzled down the first few heaps of noodles, scooping them with into her mouth and slurping without a care. Her eyes were closed and she wasn't paying any attention to what was in front of her—she heard only silence ahead, with the ever-quieting roar of a crowd left behind her back. She enjoyed solitude from time to time, and with everybody so wrapped up with the grand homecoming party, the streets were almost entirely empty elsewhere. She took that opportunity to explore without any interruptions. Often, if she got too far from the house, Ko would be sent out looking for her. But not that day; that day, he was relaxing safely at home because he knew that Naruto had returned. He served as the bodyguard for both Hanabi _and_ her sister, and he took his job very seriously. Nevermind that Konoha hadn't been a dangerous place since the war. Or so she, and so many others, believed.

Hanabi took a few turns here and there, dipping between buildings just for the sake of exploration. She could have used her Byakugan to show her what was on the other side of the alleys, but that would have been cheating—no, she preferred to see it all for the first time as it came into limited view before her natural eyes. The crunchy, broken stone of a pathway between two empty shops seemed enticing, so she went down that way, feeling uneven ground beneath her feet. There were mostly shiny new places in the village ever since the huge attack and rebuild, so finding anything old and worn down was too intriguing to pass up. Though she ate her ramen pretty quickly while she walked, she was also making sure to chew thirty-two times before swallowing. It wasn't often that she got to enjoy such a simple pleasure, so she didn't want it to be over before it even began.

As she took the turns as they came up, she realized that she had stumbled into a 'hidden' network of passages, dirty and smelling like swampy mildew in the semi-open air. The aroma was unpleasant, but it was exciting in the same way that the plain ramen was exciting—wonderful in its exotic mundanity. She was sometimes jealous of her sister for being disowned as the heiress. While it was a cold thing for their father to do, it was also a grant of freedom to Hinata; she could go where she pleased, save for the few moments in time where she needed to be present for the sake of family reputation. Hiashi had no qualms about palming Hinata off on Kurenai so many years ago, but he also understood the importance of keeping both daughters around for functions with a lot of cameras. Scandals were becoming more common amongst the noble families; the general public wouldn't have liked to hear about Hiashi's neglect of his daughter. Public perception of the Hyuuga was already bitter, thanks to the mistreatment of the branch family that went on for so many years.

The disapproval was rarely spoken aloud, but there were countless whispers. The Hyuuga name was losing power, slowly but steadily. Hanabi's father was already combing the 'market' for suitors to present to the heiress; he wanted to marry her off with a powerful clan to facilitate a merger of sorts. He hadn't _told_ her about it; she had found out on her own. In light of that, Hanabi knew her days of carefree exploration and solitude were limited. She wanted to enjoy the last gasps of innocent childhood for as long as she could. The tournament was another piece of the political puzzle, too. There were three tiers, and three members of the "royal" part of the family. Hinata could sweep the Beginner Tier, Hanabi was confident in her ability to prevail over the General Tier...and Hiashi seemed to think that he had a strong chance of winning the Exceptional Tier.

Even despite the ludicrous power of many applicants who had already trickled in, the head of the family was sure of his abilities. People like Killer Bee, the Fifth Kazekage, and Rock Lee were already confirmed entrants to the top level. Hanabi also had faith that her father could put up a strong fight and possibly even _win_ against those people, but then there was also the matter of Naruto, and even potentially Sasuke. The rumors were that Naruto and Sasuke had fought one another during the Infinite Tsukuyomi, and that the land itself was rent completely asunder in the wake of their exchanges.

Hanabi certainly had faith in her father's strength, but there were _limits_ to the strength of a mortal man, which he undeniably was. Every retroactive account of the rumored battle, which nobody living had seen with their own eyes, painted the two as being akin to gods. How much of it was fact, and how much was myth? Well, if anybody could put that mythical strength to the test, Hanabi was sure that it would be the head of the Hyuuga Clan. Hanabi was lost in her thoughts when a tiny sound of scampering footsteps caught her ear. She was mid-slurp of her noodles, but the little noise of movement gave way to a clattering bounce, followed then by a sudden explosion of smoke and sound. Most people would have been surprised by the bursting pellets, but Hanabi was _never_ surprised. Her father had trained her well, and at the very moment she heard the tiny balls clack against the uneven pavement, her Byakugan was activated and she was assessing the threat.

Gray, initially-wispy smoke was filling the narrow alley; it grew to be heavy and thick, staying at ground level and filling the low-lying passage with ash and soot. First and foremost, Hanabi regarded her half-finished cup of ramen and saw that dense particles of the smoke were settling into it, ruining the noodles. Her brow twitched with irritation, and then she concentrated her focus further outward. Within the span of less than a second, she could see both of her attackers—only two. Both were men, both around the age of twenty and dressed like Konoha shinobi—headbands and green vests topping black-blue jumpsuits. _Her_ clothes weren't exactly suited for combat, but it hardly mattered.

"Pretty bold of you," Hanabi said outwardly through shallow breaths. The smoke should have been impossible to breathe in, but she was undeterred. She took slow breaths, filtered by her own chakra to serve her nothing but fresh air. "You're seriously attacking me when Naruto Uzumaki is right around the corner? If I scream, he'll come running."

One of the men who had thrown the smoke pellets was unimpressed by the mention of that name. " _That_ kid's too busy with his adoring fans to worry about _you_ , princess!" he belted out with a sinister snarl. Hanabi could see him, clear as day, despite the thick smoke and his position behind her. She recognized him from the crowd; he and his buddy must have followed her when she broke off from the larger group. The poor fool thought he was _hidden_ , perched atop an outside windowsill and concealed behind a line of drying clothes. He was preparing a handful of shuriken. When he had spoken, his voice had echoed unpredictably through the alley, surely the result of some low-level technique designed to conceal one's whereabouts while still being able to speak. An intimidation tactic, but one that belonged to an amateur. There was no hiding from Hanabi Hyuuga; the Byakugan was not to be underestimated.

"Oh," Hanabi huffed with a wicked little smirk. "Then there's really only one question left...is there anybody who will come to _your_ rescue?"

As Hanabi mocked her 'hidden' assailant, she saw his face crease and his eyes tighten. He was using the sound of her voice to pinpoint her position in the cloud, and she allowed him to do it; he lashed his hand out and unloaded his spread of bladed shuriken. They ripped through a pink dress on the clothesline and curved downward to the ground. They were on target for the young girl's ankles. Hanabi deduced the duo's intentions fairly quickly. _They're not looking to kill me. A kidnapping, then? They must have noticed who I am; it's gotta be a play for ransom. Poor guys._ Hanabi dropped her cup of ruined noodles, but she kept her chopsticks in hand as the steaming nourishment splashed across the floor. She extended one of the narrow, delicate wooden rods that was still slick with noodle juice and threw herself into a backward flip, launching into an arc through the smoke _just_ as she should have been disabled by the blades. _He's got good aim, I'll hand that to him,_ she continued to narrate to herself. Seven blades in all, each one dodged, with all but the final one clanging uselessly against stone or brick. As the last one flew underneath Hanabi's upside-down face, she stuck her chopstick out to slip through its center hole mid-flight.

Following the momentum of the captured blade as it spun haphazardly around the fragile stick, Hanabi gently but swiftly urged its path to make a complete turnaround; with a whip of her arm, she sent the rattling projectile hissing back toward its original owner off the end of her chopstick. The blade cut back through the tattered dress suspended in the air, slipping easily through the same gap made less than a second before during the initial throw. The blade found meaty flesh, sinking into the left shoulder of Hanabi's attacker. The point of impact caused the girl to flex her brow; _Definitely not as much of an amateur as I thought; that_ _ **should've**_ _gone into his_ _ **neck**_ _._ Despite the last-second dodge the man made, he still took a substantial hit and the momentum sent him spiraling off of his perch with a grunt of pain. He hit the jagged stone floor on his back with a thud just as Hanabi's feet landed once again on the ground, and that was when attacker number two made a more direct assault.

It was clearly a coordinated effort; number two was likely _supposed_ to find Hanabi knocked off her feet with bloody ankles and calves. That _was_ going to be his chance to abduct her, no doubt. Hanabi, though, was _not_ disabled—in fact, she was lurking in the bed of smoke with every intention of turning the tables on the pathetic little ambush. The young girl made a false cry of agony, whimpering convincingly to lure the secondary attacker into thinking that she had been hit. He came into the fog quickly with a gas mask covering the lower half of his face and goggles on the upper half; Hanabi could see through the thin layers of rubber and the filter within; he was indeed another one of the shinobi who had been present at the rally. What were they _thinking_? Who would risk such a brazen attack on the Hyuuga Clan in the middle of their own village? Did the would-be kidnappers even _belong_ to Konoha?

Number two had a single sword clutched by both of his greasy hands, and he swung it overhead hard enough to cut a vertical path through the smoke to look into it. He must not have heard his fellow's groan of pain over Hanabi's falsified one, so he seemed quite surprised to notice that his quarry was unharmed and standing upright an inch further away than the tip of his blade's reach. She was too fast—instantly, she sprung forward on one foot and charged her hand with chakra. She delivered a decisive blow to his undefended chest. Her open palm connected flatly to his leaf-green flak jacket, and she delivered a ruthlessly destructive burst of chakra through his ribs. He tried to lift his sword, but it was too heavy; he wasn't _nearly_ fast enough to counter the relentless speed of his attempted victim. When his heart was struck by Hanabi's penetrating, intrusive chakra, he gurgled desperately, dropped his sword, clutched his throat, then fell silently to the floor, face down. He was dead in a near-instant.

Hanabi gave him one last glance as he laid motionless at her feet, then shook her head. There was still another one left alive. She heard her father's voice ringing in her ears: _Never show mercy._ Adrenaline was surging inside her, but it fueled her focus rather than made her wild. Her arms and fingers were perfectly still, her feet were precise and her eyes were charged with the exact right amount of chakra for maximum efficiency of vision. Despite the sudden life-or-death situation, she was as calm as she had ever been. She was precise and direct. She could see, using her impeccable vision radius, that the other man had gotten up to his feet and plucked the bloody shuriken from his shoulder.

He called out frantically, clutching the bleeding joint beside the slope of his neck: "Did you get her!?" Eerie silence. "Come on, please tell me you did. That little _bit_ —" Just then, Hanabi emerged from the smoke with a bubble of clear air around her. Little wisps of gray flanked her sides and back, and both of her arms were crossed over her chest defensively. She stared at him while mid-leap, peering into his soul by way of looking at how his heart was beating inside of him. _Tha-thump, tha-thump, tha-thump_...then, when he saw her coming out of the smoke, it got faster: _thump thump thump_. Fluidly, she was hunched before him, crouched down into an attacking position with her arms ready to strike. _ThmpThmpThmpThmp_ —and then silence. He was stricken by a hand just the same as his partner. He didn't have time to scream. The heart was a surprisingly fragile organ, Hanabi knew. It was so _easy_ to kill a man with a single pat on the chest; the red lump inside the ribs ruptured so satisfyingly _well_. The initial attacker fell just as quietly as his partner, and Hanabi stuck a landing onto both feet with perfect stability. She looked down at herself; her shirt was dirty with ash, and she grumbled while she patted herself up and down, trying to disperse the most heavily-caked portions.

"I hope it was worth it, guys," Hanabi whispered, rolling her eyes and then stepping over the fresh corpse in front of her. Let somebody _else_ worry about cleaning up, she figured. She was just about to take a turn around the corner when she felt a hand clutch her wrist from behind. It was a firm hold, inescapable. She tried to get free, but she couldn't. Whoever it was, it was somebody fast— _so_ fast that even her active Byakugan hadn't even been able to perceive the approach. The shock in her system was so powerful that she felt her heart skip a beat. The other two had been easy to dispatch—who could the third one _possibly_ have been, and why would he or she even need the two green-collars to help out?

" _Relax_ ," the smooth voice murmured from behind her. "It's me. What happened here?" Hanabi froze at the sound of the words; her vision gradually settled down from shocked blurriness, and he came into focus. Had the power of his chakra been so intense that it disrupted Hanabi's immaculate Byakugan? He was _truly_ a terrifying being, so his reassurances didn't go very far toward settling her nerves when she saw his stern face.

" _Sasuke!_ " Hanabi yelped breathlessly, and when he easily let go of her wrist, she stole it back from him and rubbed it with her fingers to encourage the circulation to return. "You shouldn't be so rough...and where's my sister?"

"Answer _my_ question first. What _happened_ here? If I'm not mistaken, these are Konoha shinobi lying dead on the ground at my feet..." Sasuke wasn't exactly pleased as he beheld the carnage, but he was mostly neutral, judging by his face.

"No, they _aren't_..." Hanabi said with venom. She snarled her upper lip toward the nearest one. "They attacked me. Tried to _kidnap_ me, I think. That's not something a Konoha shinobi would do."

Sasuke narrowed his eyes, then turned to examine the nearest corpse. No external injuries other than a nonfatal puncture in the shoulder; the man had been dealt with in a way that only a Hyuuga could manage. He saw through the smoke that the other one was heaped in a similar fashion. "So you killed them _both_...?" Sasuke shut his eyes and sighed, shaking his head and moving to the first body. He kneeled down and began to run his hands along the dead man's pockets, searching him thoroughly. "Not a good idea."

Hanabi wanted to _bite_ him, either verbally or physically, but she knew better. Her eyes hadn't been turned off before his arrival, nor was she distracted by anything; there were no excuses. Sasuke was simply too fast to be _perceived_ until he had stopped cold with his hand clasping her wrist. Hanabi gulped as she thought about that; he could seemingly do anything that he wanted to do, and nobody would even know that it was him. That realization made her a _lot_ more willing to listen to what he had to say. Still, she couldn't help but point out his apparent hypocrisy: "I'm not going to let an _Uchiha_ lecture me about mercy..."

Sasuke sighed, finding nothing in the first one's pockets. The exchange had happened so quickly that most of the thick smoke was still hanging low in the air. He didn't doubt Hanabi's story—there were classic signs of an ambush all around. "It's not about _mercy_ , Hanabi," he muttered as he waded into the smoke to get a closer look at the second body. The haze parted before his feet with seemingly no effort; even the lifeless cloud seemed to know that he was not a man to be trifled with. "It's about _value_. I doubt that these men were acting on some spontaneous _urge_ to kidnap you; they _must_ have been put up to it by somebody else. But since they're dead, we have no idea what their motives _really_ were." He began to search the other body. Other than a few extra shuriken and some explosive tags, the unfortunate soul had no noteworthy belongings in his pockets. "Their valuable information is lost to us, now."

Hanabi sighed, crossing her arms and leaning her shoulder against the brick wall beside her. "Doesn't really _matter_ once they're dead, does it?" She blew a lock of hair out of her face. The wind of her movements had knocked the strands just slightly out of place to hang over her nose. "They're not going to do it _again_."

Sasuke wasn't finished reprimanding her quite yet: "Besides that, you shouldn't just walk away from the corpse of a Konoha ninja. That's suspicious behavior, don't you think?"

Hanabi shrugged. "What are you, a _cop_?" She rolled her eyes, but then she looked away with a slight blush, little tiny circles of pink at the very edges of each cheek. Even though he was cross with her, Sasuke still looked _damned_ handsome and she couldn't ignore it. "I was _gonna_ report it, you know. It's not like we've got police all over the place, though. I had to find one, that's all."

A strong hand came to Sasuke's own forehead and wiped down the front of his face. The Hyuuga heiress sure could be a _brat_ , but she wasn't even _fazed_ by the attack, nor the two lives she had taken. She was somehow immature _and_ a hardened warrior. The Uchiha survivor had to admire her grace under pressure, even though her actions were less than ideal. "Yes, I know," Sasuke had to say. He checked the man's pulse just for the sake of being thorough, but there was nothing. Sasuke dropped the limp arm and stood himself up. Just then, Hinata jumped down from the roof above. She was breathing hard as she finally caught up.

"Hanabi! Are you okay!? I saw what happened!" Hinata ran over to her sister and scooped her into a hug, both arms tight around her midsection.

The younger sister winced; the squeeze was too tight. "Hey, sis...let up a bit, would you?" She put a hand on Hinata's shoulder to gently nudge her away. "I'm fine, okay?" She looked to Sasuke and felt a pang of resentment toward him, but maybe it was also jealousy. She had seen the way her sister acted around Sasuke—more importantly, she saw how _Sasuke_ acted when they were together, too. "And could you tell your ' _training partner_ ' not to stick his nose into my business? I had it all taken care of." She hmphed, folded her arms, then turned her head away.

Hinata wanted to speak a rebuttal to that point, but as she pulled out of the sisterly hug, she pulled her own arms close to her chest and felt a stronger tug of inquisition. "Who were _they_?" She couldn't just _ignore_ the slain pair.

Sasuke answered: "I don't know yet. I'll have to speak with the Hokage to find out their identities. I'm going to need to collaborate with him, regardless—I've been running into quite a few thugs and muggers since I came to the village. I don't think those, nor this kidnapping attempt, are just coincidences."

Hinata and Hanabi both looked at him with slight disbelief. "Here in _Konoha_ , you mean?" Hanabi was the inquisitive one. She wanted to know every single detail.

"Yes, within these very same walls. The Sixth knows about it, too—he hasn't made any public declarations, but he told me shortly after I returned that the crime rates have been rising steadily since the end of the war." Sasuke checked the hilt of his sword, as if he was anticipating that he would need to make use of it soon. "When I moved into my apartment, a group of men tried to ransack the place and make off with my belongings in the night. I spoke to their boss—he mentioned that _somebody_ would kill him immediately if he gave _any_ information for _any_ reason."

Hinata gulped. "D-do you have any idea who it could be?" That was her subtle way of asking if Sasuke had forced the man to give up his information. She knew that it was child's play to interrogate somebody through genjutsu, and she also knew that _nobody_ was better at genjutsu than Sasuke.

"Not yet," Sasuke said through clenched teeth. He was visibly frustrated. "I can't be _sure_ that this is connected, but I've got a bad feeling..." He trailed off, then put his eyes on Hanabi again. The younger sister had sneaked behind Hinata, a strange reversal of the usual roles. "Hanabi...I wish you hadn't killed these men. I would have loved to force _them_ to speak..."

Hanabi got a chill in her spine, and then she gave a nod. "I'll think harder next time..." She was lying, but her fear _forced_ her to lie. Her father's words of _no mercy_ clashed with Sasuke's insistence on squeezing information from any source possible. She didn't know which one she wanted to obey more sincerely. Her father was her mentor, her family...but Sasuke was _Sasuke_. "What do we do now?"

Sasuke slumped his head a bit and walked to Hinata, patting her on the shoulder. "Good job finding her. Your eyes are truly impressive." The compliment made Hinata smile quietly with glee. Sasuke looked to Hanabi again, next, though he was less _happy_ about her. "We don't want to cause any unrest over this. With so many people so nearby, it might be a mistake to bring an official crew _here_ to investigate. And like you said, there aren't very many police left, regardless. Let _me_ take care of these bodies. I'll take them directly to the Hokage and see if he can tell me who they were."

Hanabi nodded, but she felt a bit uncomfortable. She wasn't worried while she was fighting them; she wasn't even worried about the consequences of _killing_ them. It wasn't even _Sasuke_ that bothered her—it was Hinata. Hinata had been the one to find her, the one to tell Sasuke where she was. That meant that they were _both_ looking for her, and that probably meant further that she was about to get an earful from either her sister or her Uchiha 'trainer.' "Thanks for taking care of it, Sasuke," Hanabi said, a sort of olive branch offering. "I should be getting back home, soon, anyway..." She dropped the hint, hoping to escape quickly. "Father will be upset if I'm late for the second half of our training today."

Hinata turned around to face Hanabi, then laid her soft palm on her sibling's cheek. "Are you sure you're okay? That looked pretty frightening from where I saw it..."

The hand wasn't knocked away, but Hanabi put on a look of mild annoyance. "I _promise_ I'm fine. Those guys weren't even a threat. I'm _strong_ , Hinata. Worry about _yourself_ , not me."

Hinata planted a tender kiss on Hanabi's forehead, then tucked her arm around the shorter one's shoulders, tucking her close to the chest and cradling her with love. "I'll always worry about you, Hanabi. You're my only sister."

Sasuke watched them in silence for a moment, then turned to hoist one of the two bodies over his shoulder. The second, the one with the gas mask, was unveiled by an investigative hand. Sasuke looked upon the face underneath and recognition instantly stuck a needle into the base of his neck. "...I've seen this man before."

Hanabi turned her face away from Hinata, who was rubbing her cheek against her sister's. "They _were_ both at the rally before...did you see him there?"

Sasuke shook his head. "No...it was before that." Sasuke had a frown on his face. It was exactly as he feared. The face belonged to the young man he had seen outside of the Hokage's office, the one who seemed dejected over the slim pickings of missions. The D-rank assignment he had been given clearly hadn't provided enough income, after all. Sasuke knelt down at the deceased's side and dragged a hand down his face, closing the man's eyelids respectfully. "Do you think he could have made _any_ other choice? Was this really his last resort?"

The Hyuuga sisters were mutually silent as Sasuke seemed to tearlessly mourn the dead. They looked at one another, then at him again. He spoke up before _they_ could: "I'm taking them, now. Hinata, please speak with your sister about earlier. Make sure she knows all that she _needs_ to know." He gave one more firm glance over his shoulder. "And _nothing_ _more_." He turned away, but not before both sisters saw the beginnings of the very slight redness forming on Sasuke's cheeks. The image was somehow unsettling. Did Sasuke Uchiha even possess the _capacity_ to blush? Before either girl could look any closer, he vanished from sight, a huff of wind being all that was left behind as he rushed away.

Hinata was left alone with Hanabi, and the silence lingered for a long time again. Hanabi was the first one to speak. As always, she was the more confident one. "I saw the two of you training, but then..." She licked her lips; they were drying out. "Then I saw you get close to him, and..." she looked her sister in the eyes and asked a straightforward question. "Are you falling in _love_ with him, Hinata?"

Hinata instantly shook her head and pursed her lips. "Don't be _ridiculous_ ; I still love _Naruto_...and I always will." She didn't keep the eye contact. She was starting to doubt herself, no matter how true the words sounded when they came out. Sasuke was gone for the moment, but she could still feel the pleasant burn of his eyes against her back, as if he were still somehow watching over her. "I _know_ he's married to Sakura, but that doesn't change my feelings."

Hanabi nodded, a skeptical smile on her face. "You're too sweet, sis." She brought a small hand up to brush through Hinata's hair. The same hand that had just ruthlessly slain two men. She was quick to change attitudes when appropriate. "I won't tell Father about what I saw."

The older sister was a bit surprised by the preemptive assurance. "You promise, right? Because we both know how he would react if he found out..."

"Well, he's going to find out eventually, but it won't be from _me_. It wasn't hard to find you, so for all we know, Father has been watching you from his chair at home all along. His eyes are stronger than _any_ of ours." Hanabi _said_ that, although she had a suspicion that he wasn't watching any of it, and Hinata voiced the reason why.

"I doubt that Father cares about what I do when I'm away from home." Hinata clutched one arm with her hand and took a deep breath, about to confess something.

She was cut off: "Speaking of Father...I'm going home right away. That scuffle cost me more time than I thought. He will expect me to be back shortly."

Hinata nodded. "I'll come, too." She drearily looked around the alley. It all felt old and suffocating around her; she wondered if it was somehow a row of structures that survived the Leaf's annihilation, salvaged from the wreckage of the village and somehow relocated to a new position. At very least, some of the materials had probably been recycled, and that could have been responsible for the aged appearance. "I'd like to go home as well."

Hanabi nodded, then cheerfully clutched Hinata's hand to lead the way out. She deliberately chose a path that skirted around Naruto's gathered crowd; she didn't want to subject Hinata to any more difficulties. As they maneuvered wide around the ramen shop to reach their own home, the distance was full of chanting and cheering. Hinata heard Naruto's name repeated a dozen times and more. Even when they had escaped the range of the echoing volume, she still heard that name being repeated. The name that was both soothing and _searing_ with each repetition. _Naruto, Naruto, Naruto._

She couldn't avoid him _forever_ , but one more night wouldn't hurt, would it?

* * *

Hinata got home, and Hanabi parted ways with her almost instantly to go get herself changed into more appropriate clothing; she was in a hurry. Hinata offered a wave to her sister, then shivered slightly. Hanabi had been so casual about the day's events, but it was harder for Hinata to accept the things that happened. Konoha suddenly didn't feel very safe anymore. Hanabi had proven that she was able to take care of herself, but what about others? What about the ones who weren't prodigies, who weren't blessed with powerful eyes? The entire village seemed suddenly _vulnerable_. The most sickening part of it was the fact that Naruto was within the village, yet even he couldn't do anything about what happened. He was enough to protect against threats on a national or global level, but what could he do about dissension within the village itself?

She was just about to head into her own room when Ko stopped her in the hallway. "Lady Hinata!" He was in a sunny mood when he called out to her, and he was clutching a sealed envelope. "This message arrived for you just a short while ago. It's got the Hokage's Seal on it. I've been holding it for you." He offered it over to her, and she took it quickly. She had a strong feeling about what it probably was, and as she opened it up and read the short message, she nodded.

"Thank you, Ko. If Father asks, tell him that the Hokage has requested my presence." Hinata gave a deeper thanks; a bow.

"Do you want me to come along?" Ko asked, reading the short letter as Hinata held it out. It seemed harmless enough: _'Hinata Hyuuga: Please visit my office at your earliest convenience. There is a simple task that I would like your assistance with. —Sixth Hokage.'_

Hinata shook her head, then folded the letter up and tucked it back into its envelope. "No thank you, Ko. This shouldn't take long." She smiled at her bodyguard and turned to leave the house again, just after her arrival. She figured that the entry forms must have arrived from her family. It was finally time to set her 'betrayal' down in dark, _treasonous_ ink. She left Ko, and the rest of her family, behind. She still had time to change her mind, but she knew that she wouldn't—she was going to win the General Tier, even if that meant defeating her sister, the heiress of the clan, in front of the entire world.

* * *

Hanabi made it home just in time for training, and she slid open the door to the main dojo to enter quietly. She was already dressed back into her training clothes, with the dirty frock from earlier in the afternoon safely tucked in with the rest of the filthy laundry, inconspicuous in its contamination. "Father, I've returned," she announced softly into the room with formality, clasping a fist into an open palm and offering a deep bow. "I'm ready to resume training."

Hiashi was seated in the center of the mat, patiently awaiting the appearance of his most cherished daughter. "Welcome home, Hanabi. Was your leisure time productive?" He wasn't facing her; he didn't need to. He could see her quite clearly, regardless.

"As productive as can be, Father." She stepped her bare feet onto the roughshod mat; it was cushioned, but only slightly. There was no room for weakness in that room, and even the safety measures had an element of harshness to them. "Shall we continue from where we left off?"

Hiashi stood slowly, and as he did, Hanabi fell down to her knees and bowed her head. It was a reflex, and one that had served her well. The head of the clan's voice was deep and resounding; it filled the room with its natural assertiveness. "Yes. From where we left off." He turned to look at her directly. The sleeves of his gi were wide and flowing; they caught wind whenever he moved, and by all rights they should have slowed him down, but he seemed to prefer it that way. "You may stand, Hanabi."

The heiress did so, repeating her bow of greeting. "Yes, Father." She readied her arms and spread her feet, rolling her heels along the mat to get used to the surface against her toughened skin.

"Begin!" Hiashi sounded harshly, the two syllables practically molded into one. He attacked with precision, weaving into Hanabi's defenses with an open palm and striking her chest to blow her backward. Hanabi took the hit and twirled in the air; she fell onto her feet, though she stumbled for a step before she fully regained balance. "Again!" Hiashi declared, then struck her the same way. That time, she didn't land on her feet; she yelped and lost track of herself in the air, then slapped down against the mat shoulder-first, wincing and groaning by the time she flopped flat and went briefly still.

"I am sorry, Father," Hanabi apologized, muffled by the way her lips were laid against the mat. She struggled to lift herself, and when she did, she was unsteady on her feet. "Come again." Every time he attacked, Hanabi tried to defend herself, but Hiashi's form was _perfect_. His huge hand found every possible gap in his daughter's stance, weaving seamlessly through her tightly-woven arms as if there was nothing there at all. Hanabi took another blow, and as the blunt force rattled her body, she was launched to the air a third time. The exercise was meant to help her make solid landings under pressure—so why was it that she could be so fluid in real combat yet so hesitant during training? Wasn't it usually the other way around? She failed her landing again, catching herself with one foot but feeling her ankle buckle slightly under her momentum. She tripped over her own heel and landed flat on her back.

"You are distracted," Hiashi said plainly. "Something happened today, didn't it?"

Hanabi _wanted_ to lie, but her father was looking at her too deeply. There was no lying to a man like him. "Yes, Father." She propped herself onto her elbows, then leaned forward, folded her knees, and took a respectful seat with her head bowed low. "There was an incident within the village."

"An incident?" Hiashi was always harsh of face, but in that moment the creases deepened and his jaw clenched. "What sort of incident, my daughter?"

"I was attacked by two men. They wore the uniforms of Konoha shinobi." Hanabi was trembling slightly. She could feel her thoughts being laid bare before her perceptive father. _Stay focused on the attack,_ Hanabi told herself. _Don't mention Sasuke or Hinata. It's not_ _ **lying**_ _if he doesn't ask directly..._

Hiashi's fingers flexed, and his arms were folded angrily. "You're kneeling before me uninjured, Hanabi. You dispatched them both without difficulty?"

The girl nodded, her hair swaying with the motion in the windless room. "Yes, Father. I showed them no mercy."

Hiashi nodded. "Good. You are indeed my daughter." He took a moment to smile with total pride, and then he clapped his hands together. The sound sent a little ripple through the room; it was strong enough to be felt as a tickle in the air. "Clear your mind of guilt. The swine were given what they deserved." The matter was laid to rest, just as simple as that. "Let us resume."

Hanabi sighed with relief; the questions were over. She stood up with renewed purpose. _I'll stick the landing this time,_ she told herself. He came at her again, and again she tried an entirely different method of defense, but the result was the same. Her father was like a thread that never missed the eye of the needle. She felt the crushing force of his palm against her ribs, then the weightlessness of being sent into the warm air of the dojo. It was a strangely peaceful feeling, tumbling helplessly through the sky, nothing at her feet and the winds of motion flushing through her hair. There was a moment during her flight that always came; the apex. In that moment, neither rising nor falling, she felt completely empty. She closed her eyes and willed herself to forget the secrets of the day. The pain was dull against her chest, her ribs throbbing with bruises and her lungs emptied of air in the wake of such a forceful shove. Her throat burned with the soreness of coughing, but none of it registered. As she basked in the silent stillness of her apex, the world was meaningless. All that existed was her own self and the things she was capable of.

She could feel the way her body was being tugged. Her right shoulder felt especially heavy, and the strands of her hair on the same side were falling backward and _above_ her head. She was upside-down, careening face-first toward the mat, down and back. If she landed as such, she would roll, and it would hurt—maybe even crack her neck. With her eyes shut and her Byakugan intentionally turned off, she guided herself by the sensation of gravity alone. One hand reached out and found the mat in the darkness of her self-imposed blindness. She felt her own weight bearing upon her elbow, and allowed the joint to give just slightly. She reversed the pressure, using her own strength to counter the weight and propel herself away from the floor. Her momentum was still carrying her backward. The spring of her hand gave her the control to find both feet firmly planted on the ground. She had done it—she was stable. By the time she opened her eyes to celebrate, her father was there to fill her whole field of view. " _Again!_ " he bellowed, and she was struck in the chest another time. There was no room for hesitation; no time for weakness. The cycle continued all night.

Hanabi was the heiress of the Hyuuga Clan. It was imperative that she be forged stronger than any other person alive. In the absence of war, only the harshness of her dear father's aggressive training could mold her into what she needed to be. At least, that was what Hiashi had always _told_ her.

* * *

The sun was starting to set on the day, and Naruto was slurping up the last bits of his sixth bowl of ramen. His adoring fans had gradually dispersed, each one offering their final congratulations and praise before heading off. The excitement of the hero's return was thinning out, but the goodwill constantly remained. He lounged back in his chair with his arms stretched out on either side of him. Sakura was in a chair beside him, her seat pulled up close to her husband so that she could lay her head against his shoulder and knead her hand along his closest thigh. "Exciting day, huh?" The pink-headed newlywed sighed toward her husband's ear, making a playful whine. "I miss the privacy _already_..."

Naruto grinned and draped his arm around Sakura's shoulders, tightly holding her against him. "We'll take another vacation soon," he assured her as he leaned in to kiss her cheek, then her lips. The remaining few admirers were all snapping photos of the intimate moment, and even Naruto had to admit that the attention was a bit overbearing. He couldn't bring himself to shoo the onlookers off, but he _did_ fully understand his wife's point about privacy. "Maybe we should just go home and lock the door behind us."

Sakura smiled up at him, feeling safe and warm under his arm. Sure, she couldn't shake the feeling that she loved Sasuke—but an even stronger feeling than that had pulled her toward Naruto. It was like the force of a magnet or the undercurrent of a river. She had tried to fight it, at first, but she eventually grew tired and weak. When she was finally ready to pass out from the exhaustion of fighting her feelings for him, she fell _right_ into his arms, and she never looked back. "Home sounds amazing," she whispered against the fabric on her husband's shoulder. He had a unique scent; not flowery, but not unpleasant, either, even after a full day of quick foot travel. "The room we had was nice, but I miss _our_ bed..."

Naruto nodded his agreement. In no real hurry to stand up and break their lazy intimacy, he found something else to talk about. "I didn't get to hear your talk with Sasuke. What's up with him, now? Is he staying or going?"

Sakura shrugged. "He _said_ he was going to stay, but when it comes to him, who knows?" She blinked in the face an associated memory. "Oh, that's right! He told me that we should stop by Kakashi-sensei's office whenever we could. Sasuke mentioned that there's something important going on in the village, but he wouldn't say what."

Naruto scratched the base of his chin with his bandaged fingertip. "Hm, why can't Kakashi-sensei just come talk to us himself?"

Sakura sighed, giving Naruto a playful jab to the side with her elbow. "Because he's the _Hokage_. He doesn't have the time to just stroll around and make small-talk all day."

"Oh, you're right, I guess," he answered, rubbing his jabbed side to inspire guilt over the 'injury'. It didn't work, but it didn't hurt to try. "Did you talk to Hinata? I didn't get to say anything to her. She seemed kinda down, y'know?"

Sakura blushed slightly at the mention of the dark-haired girl. It _couldn't_ have been a coincidence that she was standing with Sasuke—no, more than that. She was hiding _behind_ him, like she thought he would protect her from... _something_. Sakura didn't know what that something was, but the picture was an intriguing one. Initially, the smile in the wedding photo seemed like a pure coincidence, but seeing them together was surreal. "Naruto, do you think Sasuke might _like_ Hinata?"

Naruto perked a brow. "Well, sure. _Everybody_ likes Hinata! She's super nice, and really good at listening to people when they talk. You can tell she's always paying attention!"

Sakura snickered, rubbing Naruto's head and laughing sweetly. "I don't mean just _that_ , though. Do you think he might be, you know...attracted to her? Like in the same way that you're attracted to me, and I'm attracted to you?"

Naruto thumbed his chin and closed his eyes. In his head, he tried to picture Sasuke with _any_ kind of physical attraction, and he came up empty; it just didn't compute. He was always so reserved and cold toward others—especially women, it had seemed like. "Gee, I dunno. I can't really imagine him liking _anyone_ like that...Are you talkin' about the wedding picture again? I thought we decided that it was nothing."

Sakura smirked. "I'm sure it _is_ nothing, but still...I've been wondering." Was it jealousy she felt? No, it _couldn't_ have been...Could it? Absolutely not. _Right?_ She shook her head and forced her thoughts to resettle, coming up with something less speculative to talk about. "Anyway, we should probably meet with Kakashi-sensei before we go home for the night. Otherwise let's do it first thing in the morning."

Naruto stretched himself out, rolling his back and hips to really work his muscles to relax. "I wanna go see him now. He must be busy if he didn't come out to welcome us home. Let's _make_ him take a little break, y'know? He might even be glad we did."

A little nod had Sakura's chin thump gently against Naruto's shoulder, and she gave his thigh a firm pat before she rather quickly stood herself up. She looked onto their table; Naruto was like a ramen-sucking hurricane, and all his finished bowls were stacked up and drying out. Sakura decided that the least she could do was take the bowls back up to the shop to make the workload just a bit easier to handle. As she gathered up the half-mountain of dishes, she pecked Naruto's forehead with a kiss and she gave a nod. "I'm _sure_ he'll be happy to see us; he's _always_ glad to get a visit from his favorite students, right?"

Naruto took his final bite from a bowl that Sakura was in the process of lifting up. "You _bet_ he is!" The blonde shouted with a mouthful of noodles and his typical enthusiasm. Sakura took the dishes up, thanked the workers for the meal, then returned to Naruto and took his hand to urge him to stand up. Together, after one final round of farewells to their adoring public, they departed for Kakashi's office.

* * *

 **That's the end of another chapter. Thank you all for reading! As a heads-up, I'm telling you all that my cousin is going to be in town for a week starting tomorrow, and I don't know if I'll have time to write while he's here. If I** _ **do**_ **find the time, I'll get some work done on the next chapter, but if not, don't worry—I won't forget about it! It might take a while this time, but the next chapter will happen as soon as I can manage it.**

 **Thanks again for all the support! It means the world to me.**


	19. Convergence

**Enjoy!**

* * *

The distinct sound of a pen scratching across paper with lightning quickness fluttered around in an otherwise silent office. The sun was going down outside, but the shutters had already been closed hours prior to keep the wandering eyes of the public from looking in. The candles dabbing the desk and surrounding shelves were burning low and flickering; the wax was melted and dripping down the sides of each spire after a long day of dutiful service. The Sixth Hokage had reached a critical juncture of his administrative work, and although he _was_ still accepting visitors, the front door and the windows over his shoulder were locked steadfastly to prevent sudden entry. His task was sensitive—he knew things that others didn't, and they rightfully _shouldn't_. For starters, he knew _exactly_ what kind of technologies were being developed with the village's funds, and that kind of information was protected for good reasons. He also knew how those items being produced within the village were to become _exports_ —it didn't make sense, practically or financially, to turn the entire standing military of Konoha's shinobi into a glorified delivery service. Those duties were to be outsourced.

Shizune was over his shoulder, curiously taking in the details of his hasty handwriting. He didn't mind—as always, she knew everything about what he was doing. She was the only ninja in the entire village who he trusted with _every_ kind of knowledge. He kept the occasional secret from Guy, Yamato, Tsunade, and even Naruto. The state of the world's politics seemed _fine_ on the surface, but there was always trouble brewing or _waiting_ to brew. There would always be competition between villages, between the nations housing them—there were some things that even the Hidden Village system couldn't possibly eliminate completely, even as a group of five working together.

The Daimyos of each country were largely supportive of the expanding notions of peace, but they would always be _opportunists_ at heart. They would ultimately go to war with one another if it meant a quick land grab, or a new source of raw materials to augment their productivity. The Kages had gone from the dogs of war to the keepers of the peace, and it wasn't always an easy job to do. Kakashi always felt the delicacy of the balance; every tiny gust of wind in one direction or another could potentially have devastating consequences. That teetering instability would likely change once the new generation took charge—but the new generation wasn't ready quite yet. The old guard was still _very much_ in power, especially on the national stage. Naruto and Sasuke were certainly deterrents against warfare, but there were several _types_ of warfare.

As Kakashi scrawled a few more entries onto his pre-made form, he instantly detected another presence in the room. It happened with no sound, not even a rustle of wind. Kakashi's hand tensed, and by the force of instinct, a current of lightning was surging through the pen he was using to write. Based on the air pressure in the room, he could deduce something: _The door and windows are still shut—what kind of assassin could this be? This must be a space-time technique...but it's something on an entirely new level compared to what I'm used to._ He felt the intrusive existence near the door, slightly to the left of the frame, and then his pen was thrown like a kunai before the Hokage's eyes had even lifted up to catch sight of the intruder. At the same time, his other hand was flipping his papers over and hiding them from trained eyes. It might not have been an assassination attempt at all—it could have been an espionage mission, and the savvy Kage knew it very well.

Shizune didn't have _quite_ the same reaction speed as the legendary Kakashi, but upon seeing the sparking pen leave his hand, she was swiftly digging under the hem of her skirt to find the complement of poisoned senbon tucked against her outer thigh. Before she could pull one out, though, Kakashi's hand came to her wrist and stopped her cold, preventing further escalation. He had looked up—his eyes were set upon the intruder. The crackling light of the electrically-charged pen was clamped casually between a still thumb and pointer finger several inches away from a stern visage; the blue-white glow illuminated the face and cargo of the man who had so easily bypassed the doors and windows, plus the simple barriers placed upon them.

"Sasuke," Kakashi said with a sigh of relief. "It's only you. Be more careful; that eye power of yours is going to get you into trouble one of these days..." The Hokage stood from his chair and then realized what was draped over the young Uchiha's shoulder—two unmoving bodies, both of them clad quite obviously in Konoha shinobi garb. A few quiet drops of blood fell onto the floor. Kakashi stopped mid-motion and put his voice through a demanding filter, firm but curious: "...What did you do to them?"

Sasuke dropped both of the dead onto the wood of the floor in front of him without respect, grunting with disapproval and then tossing Kakashi's pen back to him. The writing utensil was caught while the infiltrator explained himself: "These men weren't killed by me, but by Hanabi Hyuuga. By the time I arrived, they were dead. I would have advised _against_ killing them, I should add, but I was too slow."

Kakashi's hand was carefully and protectively holding his paperwork face down, the ink still in the process of drying out of sight. "She's not here with you?" Kakashi began inquisitively, asking and stating the obvious. "Shouldn't you have brought her along to back up your story?"

Sasuke's eyes were on the slain pair, his arm sagging down at his side. "She had something 'important' to do. I told her that I would pick up the pieces and sort things out with you." His gaze lifted, matching the Hokage's and then veering toward Shizune. "You said that you trust this woman, right?"

Kakashi nodded, reaffirming his position. "More than anybody," he asserted without missing a beat.

Shizune was still in a combat stance, puzzling over the nature of the intrusion and pondering its surfacing details with a fierce curve to her brow. Sasuke hadn't decided to trust her yet, but that was only fair—she didn't trust _him_ yet, either, despite the Hokage's assurances. She held her fidgeting hand tenuously at bay beside the black weapon strap upon her thigh. Despite her readiness, she knew that Sasuke was too powerful for her to fight, and Kakashi seemed to have a handle on the situation nonetheless. Even so, she couldn't resist the visceral, gut-centered revulsion that came with the sight of two dead Konoha ninjas lying at the feet of the long-time fugitive and outcast. The sense of dread running inside of her was eerily similar to what she had once felt around Orochimaru, but it sliced a thousand times deeper.

Sasuke didn't seem to notice or care about Shizune's inner debate, and his eyes went back to Kakashi. "Hanabi told me that she was attacked—said that it seemed like a kidnapping. I arrived just as she was walking away, so I couldn't prevent her from killing either of these two. I would have liked to ask them about their intentions, but there's nothing we can do about it now...Hanabi's sister, Hinata, was with me along part of the way, and she saw the conflict with her Byakugan. I trust her word that it was self-defense."

Kakashi folded his arms and stepped around his desk, giving Shizune a pat on the shoulder, which finally shook her out of her rigid alert state. "You should have knocked before you came in," he began, his voice filling the room. He rethought the initial reaction and corrected himself with a glance downward. "Then again, I can see why you might have wanted to avoid any kind of notice...being seen with two of our own hanging over your shoulder, bleeding from the mouth, isn't in your best interest right now."

Sasuke nodded. "This problem is best kept as a secret from the rest of the village. I didn't mean to interrupt anything important, but I wanted to bring this matter to your attention as quickly as possible." Sasuke stepped back from his unwanted quarry, allowing Kakashi to get a good look at them both upon the floor. The Hokage unfastened his flowing robe then pulled it away from his shoulders, and Shizune took it from him to fold it up and place it upon his desk—right over the top of his sensitive paperwork. The two were truly on the same wavelength.

With his white robe taken aside and no longer at risk of getting dirty with blood, Kakashi fell to one knee beside the closest body, and he used the dim candle light to get an initial assessment. "You're right," he said analytically. "The killing blow was definitely delivered internally...and only a Hyuuga has ever been this precise. That Hanabi sure is becoming _deadly_ , isn't she?" He stood back up and ran his hand down the front of his mask. "I recognize both of them; they're definitely shinobi who belong to this village...and they both had families. _Young_ families. Somebody is going to need to deliver the news to them and answer for what happened out there."

Sasuke hummed. "Let it be the killer who explains it; she _slaughtered_ them, so she should take responsibility. I don't think she felt _any_ remorse. She was planning to leave them lying on the ground to rot in the alley."

Kakashi sighed. "Of course she didn't feel remorse...She's a shinobi, after all." Cold, dark black eyes fell on Sasuke beneath the stern brow of the village leader. "You and I know exactly what that's like."

Sasuke looked away briefly, feeling old pangs of guilt pulling at his ribs. "I know what it's like when killing feels easy, but I thought this new world of ours was supposed to get _rid_ of that feeling."

There was silence for a few seconds, then a regretful huff from behind a dark mask. "Every generation wishes for the one after it to know true peace, though as of yet that wish has never come true—not even once. All we can do is our best, and that's what I'm doing—what _you're_ doing, too." Kakashi stepped to the front door, then rapped his knuckles against the wood twice while sliding the lock open. The door creaked abruptly; one of the masked Anbu operatives stationed outside entered obediently and gave a soundless stare. The male operative's mask resembled a cat of sorts, with a flat smile and oval-shaped eyes. The nose and whiskers were painted with blocky red splotches, and the whole mask bobbed up and down as if it were just a little bit loose around its wearers head when he nodded. Kakashi stepped aside and gestured toward the bodies on the floor. "Take these two and preserve them in the morgue, and be gentle. We may need to see them again before it's time for the funerals."

The black-robed, white-and-red masked black ops soldier gave a silent nod, then pulled out a pair of scrolls about as thick as cucumbers, peeling them open, laying them out on the floor, and then making a set of hand signs above them. The two bodies seemed to abruptly vanish into the air, leaving behind puffs of white smoke that dissipated in seconds. The blank scrolls were consequently inscribed with various etchings and glyphs, the signature of two successful sealings. The agent wordlessly rolled up the scrolls, then tucked them into his robe and exited the office. The door was closed behind him.

"Efficient," Sasuke remarked, somewhat disturbed by how quickly the bodies had been tucked away. Not even the droplets of blood on the floor remained. "Sometimes I forget what it's like to be involved with so much _death_..."

"In the years since the war ended, you haven't taken any lives?" Kakashi asked, more out of curiosity than anything.

Sasuke didn't answer the question directly, but his face tensed around the cheeks and he hummed cautiously. He was moving on to the next point on his agenda, pushing the possible guilt to the back of his mind: "The village is in worse shape than I thought...everywhere I turn I see a mugger, maybe some sort of housing fraud, and now even a kidnapping scheme against the heiress of a major clan. How much of this is being stopped, and how much is just slipping through the cracks? Do you even _know_ how serious things have gotten, Kakashi?"

A nod came in the soft orange glow of the room. "I do, Sasuke...that's why I want you to take over as the police chief. The whole force has been essentially absent for over a decade. These problems are only going to get worse until our economic situation is settled...and we're looking at a long road in that respect. The police can't possibly stop _every_ crime, but with somebody like _you_ as the acting chief...there would be a healthy fear and respect given to the entire force."

"Madara—" Sasuke cut himself off, remembering the difference. " _Obito_ , I should say, once told me all about how the Uchiha Clan was given the role of enforcing the law within the village. It was done as a way of marginalizing the entire clan, of keeping us out of the affairs of the village while trying to appease us with some sense of authority...The sense of being excluded and despised is what brought the clan to rise up against Konoha. Do you really think that I want my clan to take that role again?" He _sounded_ sure of his refusal, but he wasn't actually as certain as it seemed he was.

Kakashi gave a considerate nod, circling his way back to the chair behind his desk. Shizune was silent, staring perpetually at Sasuke aside from the occasional break to make sure that Kakashi was comfortably situated at his desk, not in need of any assistance. The Hokage laid his elbows upon the plush folds of his robe where it rested in a clean lump, settling his chin on his interlocked hands. "That may have been true _then_ , but those days are gone. There aren't any Uchiha _left_ , other than you—and I'm not just offering you a _position_ with the Military Police Force, Sasuke. I want you to be the Chief of _all_ the law enforcement in this village—and I want to give you control over how justice is administered to criminals within these walls. I'm not going to just cast you aside. I want you to be my _partner_ in this matter, not just a pawn. Besides, like you told me...the people of Konoha already think of you as their enemy. How could things be any worse than they already are?" There was a polite kind of snark in those last few words, friendly yet mocking in the way only Kakashi's fluid voice could deliver.

Sasuke closed his eyes and smirked, laying his arm across his chest and clutching the other side of his traveling cloak with harsh fingers. "You may have a point," he admitted. He _was_ the enemy already, and there were a lot of things that he could do with the authority of the Military Police Force—things that probably wouldn't get done otherwise. There was also the confident declaration he had made a lifetime ago—he still heard his own voice, and it was telling Itachi all about how he was going to join the force when he grew up. Sasuke _felt_ grown up, but he didn't feel ready to make a choice, yet. The job in question was a mammoth responsibility, even if it was also a tremendous honor and a vital role to fulfill. "I'm still not sure what I want to do." He left it at that, vague and intentionally flat. "Will you talk to Hanabi about what she has done? I don't think it's my place to lecture her, but she needs some kind of reality check."

The Hokage hummed, giving up another nod of affirmation. "You've got the right idea. Hanabi is growing up into a world that isn't going to especially _like_ this merciless attitude of hers. I want nothing more than to have her face the people whose lives she has ruined by her actions..." He closed his eyes and took a breath through his nose. " _However_...Hiashi Hyuuga is a powerful figure, and his teachings tend toward the merciless. I doubt that he will consent to having his daughter turned soft, whether by my decree or not. Hanabi became the heiress of the clan in the first place because of her focused demeanor."

There was a knock upon the door in that moment, but Sasuke got his final word in before Shizune dutifully answered. "Are you _afraid_ of Hiashi, then? You won't stand against his will in order to do what's right?"

After the lock clicked, the door opened over Sasuke's shoulder, letting in some bright light from the hallway and a familiar scent that wafted gently inward. Kakashi chuckled, admiring the convenience of the timing. "Actually, Sasuke...If you stay for a moment, Hinata here might be able to answer that question for me."

Sasuke's head turned. Flashes of the swaying violet were in his eyes and then he laid sight upon something even more splendid and pure. Hinata was indeed there, her hands covering her mouth with surprise—she didn't expect Sasuke to be in the office, still. The conversation must have taken more time than Sasuke thought, and with the shutters closed it was hard to know that the darkness had already come. "Hinata..." Sasuke stated flatly, trying not to let his reverence for her beauty show through. He was still trying to cope with the rising infatuation he felt toward her. She had become his obsession, and in truth, his hurried response to taking the bodies away from the crime scene was his method of escaping his own manifesting weakness. He couldn't stand to be around that girl for any longer. With every breath, his feelings were starting to become increasingly difficult to wrangle. And yet there she was again, haunting him in the most pleasant of ways, a ghost of kindness and heart.

"Sasuke," Hinata said to reply to her name, just as flustered and breathless as Sasuke was. They wound up staring at one another, both drowning in the same condition of _what do I do now? What do I say?_

Kakashi was the one to break them out of their trance. "Hinata, I'm glad you're here. There's something I'd like you to do. We've already discussed it, and I'm sure you know what I'm going to say next." He cast his fingers into his desk, baited with purpose, until the papery 'fish' gave him a bite and he tugged it free from its stack with a rush of flapping edges. Kakashi laid the document on his desk, showing it to Hinata and Sasuke both as they turned to look.

"R-right," Hinata murmured, moving past the doorframe and drifting by Sasuke close enough to feel the warmth of his body in the surrounding air. She tried not to look at him in shock, and she succeeded in reaching the Hokage's desk without fainting. She, too, had needed a break from him—the feel of his hand in hers, the sound of his voice, the look of his dormant eyes, and of course the warmth of his closeness. Earlier that day, they had been holding hands together in the village without giving a thought to who might have seen. He was in the lead while she used her Byakugan to comb the streets for Hanabi. She was only halfway paying attention at the time; her thoughts and emotions were being suffocated by just how good Sasuke's hand felt around hers. She felt like he was leading her, step by step, into a better state of mind. She wanted nothing more than to follow him wherever he might have gone, but a sense of urgency had stricken her. That was when she saw Hanabi under attack, and she told her companion where to find the conflict—and the rest was fairly straightforward.

She was grateful that he had gone away, because she _wanted_ him to stay in the alley with her; she _wanted_ him to come home and introduce himself to her family properly. She wanted everything to do with him. That was the fantasy that Hinata had cooked up, but the reality was altogether different. Her family would have never accepted his presence, and quietly Hinata was praying that Hanabi hadn't mentioned Sasuke's name since arriving at home. She wanted to be near him, and yet she knew that it was a mistake to allow herself to get so attached. Although she could have pondered the ramifications of getting involved with Sasuke for days on end, that wasn't the reason she saw the Hokage that night—the issue rose out of Hinata's own defiance of her family's wishes.

The paper upon the Hokage's desk was calling to her, inky and fully filled out. There was a tub of liquid paper set aside and opened up for her use. She began to read the details on the slip. _Name: Hinata Hyuuga. Age: 19 yrs. Height, Weight, etc...Tier of Entry:_ _ **Beginner**_ _._ So it was true. Her father had submitted _written proof_ of his lack of confidence in his eldest daughter's capabilities. She didn't feel angry, though she had every right to. She didn't even feel sadness, as his disapproval was something that she had come to expect. The emotion that took hold of Hinata's eyes and forced them to well up with moist tears was something entirely unfamiliar. It was as if reality itself had been condensed and them pushed into her skull, causing her a great deal of pain. It was the first time in her entire life that she had seen written, signed proof of her father's disowning of her.

Sasuke was reading the form from afar, and he couldn't help but speak up. "He wants to use you as a political token, Hinata..." He saw the word 'beginner' and felt a sense of anger on the young woman's behalf. He stepped away from the frame of the door and stood by her side, reaching his hand up to lay on her shoulder. She tensed, but not for long. "Your father wants an easy victory for the clan...putting you in the Beginner Tier is the simplest way to secure a guaranteed win without looking cowardly."

"Cowardly?" Hinata asked impulsively, pondering the words laid in front of her. Both of her hands were set on the desk and her fingers were flexing with indecision. It was easy to ask for Kakashi to alter the forms, but to do it with her very own hands was a little bit more personal than she had been prepared for. Could she really go through with the betrayal? She feared the consequences. She had never stood up to her father, before. He wouldn't take it lightly. She looked toward Sasuke and felt his hand staying on her shoulder, warm and heavy and reassuring. "My father isn't a coward." In that moment, _she_ felt like one, though.

Sasuke smirked at that. "I'm not saying that he is. He's intelligent. Although Hanabi is only considered a Genin, it's common knowledge that she should be ranked much higher—she's at Jonin level by now, right?" He stopped talking for a second, and a hesitant Hinata gave a single nod of agreement. He kept going. "She's young enough to get away with it, but putting her in the Beginner Tier would be foolish, politically. He can't make a statement by putting her in with a group of genin and chunin. Plus, he also wants to put her out front and center, second only to himself. He wants to validate his decision to make her the new heiress in your place." Sasuke looked down to the paper. "If you were to enter the General Tier alongside her, and if you happened to _beat_ her, then his decision would seem quite a bit less wise, wouldn't it? I think he fears your potential, Hinata. Maybe he has more faith in you than you think."

They were nice words, and on the inside of her heart, Hinata felt a swelling of pride. Maybe Sasuke was right—there was no denying that she was a vastly capable contender. Even her father must have known that the Beginner Tier was too easy for her. She was probably being entered as a surefire way to have at least _one_ tier swept by a Hyuuga, even if it was the 'other' sister. The family name was important; the individual name less so. Had Hinata been in an accommodating mood, she would have closed the bottle of whiteout and given the form back to the Hokage...but she wasn't in that kind of mood. Sasuke made her feel independent; rebellious. He inspired a wild side in her that rarely saw the light of day. Without thinking it through anymore, she dipped the brush into the blanking material and dragged it across the 'beginner' entry. Taking the pen offered to her, she replaced the word with the proper one: _General._

Sasuke smiled with unrestrained approval, then he gave her soft shoulder a pat against her thin shirt. "That's the way."

Kakashi, too, seemed proud of her. "Excellent. This all seems to be in order, then." He took the altered entry form and waved it gently through the air a few times to encourage the ink to dry up again. As he was sliding the paper back into position within his desk, he looked between Sasuke and Hinata with a slow realization. "You two are getting along pretty well, aren't you...?" His eyes were brightened, genuinely glad to see it. For both of their sakes. The Hokage wasn't easily fooled—he knew exactly what the wedding did to Sasuke, of course, but he also knew what it did to Hinata. To see them together, even as friends, was quite soothing.

Sasuke reacted a bit too obviously to the question, abruptly tugging his hand from her shoulder and taking a step back, closing his eyes and tilting his head downward to try to look 'cool.' "I've been helping her to hone her fighting techniques, that's all." His eyes opened a moment later, and he saw that Kakashi was looking at him with total understanding. Sasuke never knew _how_ he did it, but Kakashi always seemed to know what everybody else was thinking. The Hokage had seen it plain as day on Sasuke's face as soon as Hinata stepped through the door—he had probably even figured it out when they were talking about Hanabi's run-in prior to that. Sasuke, who prided himself on being difficult to read, was really resenting his former master's perceptiveness on that late evening.

Hinata chimed in to back him up, but it was too late. "That's right. I've asked him to help me since Ko, my bodyguard, isn't able to do it..." She was tapping her fingers together bashfully, probably not helping the defense. Her feet were shuffling backward, like she was about to make a quick escape, but right as her back was about to hit the door, another knock sounded through.

This time, the knock was accompanied by a voice. A terribly, horribly _familiar_ voice. It spoke brashly, with a kind of selfish demand for attention that hadn't yet been outgrown entirely. The owner of the voice had a long way to go, but all of his friends and 'family' understood his mannerisms well enough not to be offended by his brazen intrusions. "Hey, Kakashi-sensei! Open up, will ya?!" It was Naruto Uzumaki, and Hinata yelped with dread, stepping away from the door like a frightened kitten, scrambling toward Sasuke and taking her place behind him. There was no way out but through the door, unless she wanted to telegraph her fear and dive through a window.

Sasuke felt Hinata's hands on his shoulders, but he brought his own fingers up to gently tug her tense grip away from him, encouraging her to find her own resolve. "Go open the door. Say hello to him, Hinata." Sasuke was trembling, too, though. Sakura was out there—he could hear the additional footsteps, feel the air moving outside the door. He could even swear that he heard a quiet whisper in her voice. He cleared his head and added something: "There's nothing to fear..."

Hinata _did_ have something to fear, though. Something of her own making. She dreamed about it almost every night. _I don't love you, Hinata. I hate you, Hinata. You don't matter to me, Hinata. You're worthless, Hinata._ She knew better than to think that Naruto would ever say things like that to her, but her mind had been thoroughly wounded by his decision to marry Sakura. She felt helpless and hopeless, and her dreams had made it seem very real. She was terrified of hearing Naruto's voice again, especially in her direction. Her nightmares had given her the idea that the very next thing Naruto said to her would be something horrible and spiteful. She was panting heavily, like she was about to pass out on the floor, but Sasuke moved behind her, then placed his hand carefully against her upper back.

"Come on, Hinata. Don't run away, this time." Sasuke had told himself earlier that it was okay to let her avoid Naruto, but he hadn't quite seen the _severity_ of her fear. A part of him, the most protective part, wanted her to abandon those fears forever. The only way that was going to happen was if she faced Naruto eye to eye and said and _meant_ one word: _Congratulations._ The banging was still coming, the door threatening to give way. Naruto hadn't quite gotten to the point of being able to control his own strength, but the restraint he showed was still admirable. Shizune had a look of frustration along her lips and jawline, like her impulse to be a good assistant was compelling her to answer the door. Kakashi, though, had his hand around her wrist again, keeping her back to allow Sasuke and Hinata to dictate the start of the encounter.

"I-I can't," Hinata tried to say, shivering in her throat. Her eyes were frantically swaying back and forth while she walked toward the door at Sasuke's gradual encouragement. "I can't do it..." her voice got quieter and quieter as she got nearer to the knob, but eventually she found her own hand on the lock, flicking it open. The knob turned. "I _can't_..." she said one more time.

"You already have," Sasuke said to her, taking his hand from her back and stepping out of sight from the immediate door opening. Naruto swung the panel outward, pulling it into the hallway and nearly storming in. He stopped abruptly just before bowling Hinata over onto the floor, catching his balance and teetering slightly forward on his toes with surprise.

"Hinata! What're you doing here? Are you Kakashi-sensei's new assistant, or something?" Naruto bent forward, tilting his head side to side and scratching the back of his head. He saw Shizune with his light blue eyes, which further confused him. "No, I guess Shizune's still here..." Gears were turning in his head, but not quickly enough. Sakura came in behind him and gave a soft tap on the back of his head.

"Obviously Hinata is just here on business, darling husband of mine," Sakura explained confidently, then rolled her eyes, stepping in front of Naruto and offering her hand to the trembling Hyuuga for a shake. "It's great to see you, Hinata."

Hinata was frozen in place, but eventually her hand lifted on its own to take Sakura's offered shake. Rather than a simple clasp, the handshake turned quickly into a tight hug. Hinata was shivering harder than before. Sakura was the one who 'stole' Naruto from her, but none of her fear or resentment was given to the pink haired lady. It was a one-sided embrace, but it was a genuine one even so. Hinata felt a certain kind of comfort rolling over her, but it wasn't what she _needed_. "Y-you too," Hinata stammered to Sakura, both of her arms hanging down without knowing what to do. It was as if Sasuke had completely disappeared, but she knew that he was still in the room, hiding in a darkened corner without candlelight.

Naruto continued on his 'rampage' through the office while Hinata and Sakura hung together for a moment. "Say, Kakashi-sensei, why's it so dark in here? Did the lights burn out?" He flipped a switch beside the door, and the bright fluorescent bulbs kicked into life overhead, allowing the colors of the office to shine oppressively in every direction. The dim, soothing illumination was replaced by the harshness of unnatural light. "Oh...they still work." He didn't turn the switch off.

Kakashi didn't say anything yet. He was seemingly content to observe the interactions in front of him. He could see the discomfort on Hinata's face clearly from the side, and he saw how Sasuke was intentionally keeping himself out of the limelight. Neither of the new visitors had come to notice the Uchiha in the corner, just yet. Shizune was whispering in Kakashi's ear, something about going to get him some coffee. He shook his head, murmuring back to her. He wanted her to stay for what was to come.

After Naruto flipped on the lights and noticed something about Hinata, he went beside Sakura and looked Hinata right in the eyes during the embrace the two women were sharing. "Hinata...is something the matter?" His voice was softened in an instant; the brash, obnoxious side of him was melted down and reforged into an empathetic, pained one. That was what made him so special—he could be anything he wanted or needed to be, and his sense of empathy was tuned so high as to be supernatural. "You don't seem like yourself..."

Sakura blinked, pulling back from the hug and looking at Hinata as well. She didn't notice anything especially _different_ , but she never questioned Naruto's instinct. She went along with it—"Yeah, are you okay, Hinata? Did something bad happen while we were gone?"

Hinata blushed and shook her head. "N-no, everything's fine..." Firstly, she couldn't mention what happened to Hanabi. That would only have caused a stir. Second, she couldn't admit to what was _really_ wrong with her. Coming forth with jealousy wasn't going to help anybody, she figured. "Welcome home, both of you." She stepped backward, moving in little shuffles until she was near Sasuke again.

Sakura and Naruto both noticed the Uchiha at the same time, then they looked to one another with shared confusion. Naruto cleared his throat. "Hey, Sasuke...good to see you again, too."

Sasuke answered with a nod and nothing else. He was cloaked along the shoulders, and the black fabric was draped all down his chest and legs to cover his shirt and his sword. Hinata was looking right at Naruto, and it seemed like she was trying to slink behind Sasuke's back again, but he was strategically placed in a corner with his shoulders pinned to the wall to deny her escape.

Naruto didn't abandon his concerns as easily as Hinata might have liked. "Seriously, Hinata, I know something's on your mind...talk to me about it. Maybe I can help." He extended his bandaged right hand, his palm open and fingers spread invitingly. "C'mon, it can't be _that_ bad, can it?"

Hinata felt a curious thing come up through her spine. That was Naruto. The _real_ Naruto. The weight of her dreams had been all but shattered in the wake of his true presence. He was as warm as he had ever been to her, even though there was a wedding ring slipped over his finger. Hinata looked to Sakura, and the other woman was biting her lip slightly with concern. Hinata then looked to Sasuke for some kind of support, but all he gave her was a solid glance with opened eyes. Even just that much was enough encouragement. "No..." she said, trailing off. "No, it's not _that_ bad, I guess. I'll be okay."

Naruto had stepped closer, bent at the knees and waist to put himself level with Hinata's face from an arm's length away. "You're sure? You don't have to suffer through it alone, whatever it is. You can come to me and Sakura for _anything_ , y'know?"

Hinata resisted the urge to look at Sasuke while she said it, but she managed to speak confidently. "I'm _not_ going through it alone, Naruto. Thank you." She smiled to the village hero, and she got a smile back, kind and steady.

"Alright, then!" Naruto's thumb was raised, and his grin got wider. "Anyway, Kakashi-sensei, isn't there something happening in the village soon? Something _really_ important?" He looked at the Hokage, freeing Hinata from the suffocating focus of his attention.

Kakashi nodded, reaching into his desk and producing two blank entry forms, laying them out on the desk. "That's right, Naruto. Sakura. We're organizing a multi-village fighting tournament, and I've been meaning to formally invite both of you to participate."

While Kakashi began to explain the rules and restrictions to Naruto and Sakura, Hinata crept up to Sasuke's side and whispered breathlessly up to him, the relief clear in her soft murmur. "H-he's the same as always..."

Sasuke perked a brow. "Yeah, he is...did you think he would change?"

Hinata gave a sheepish little nod, though she knew in hindsight that she was just being foolish to begin with. "I thought maybe he wouldn't be nice to me anymore..."

The hand fell onto her shoulder again, immediately tightening. Sasuke kept his voice low, and his eyes were on Naruto's occasional responses to the individual tournament rules. "He never turned his back on _me_ , despite everything I did...I don't think _you_ have anything to worry about." The blonde person, no longer a kid, was getting more excited by the moment as Kakashi listed off all of the restrictions.

"Really? No Sage Mode? None of Kurama's chakra, either?" Naruto clenched both of his fists and had a somewhat stupid-looking smile on his face. He pumped his arms at his sides and took a posture of excitement. "This is gonna be _great!_ I mean, as long as I can remember all those rules..."

Kakashi nodded, then looked to Sasuke with a turn of his eyes. "Plus, Naruto...You and Sasuke will be in separate halves of the total bracket, which means that, barring some kind of catastrophe, you'll probably end up facing one another in the final round of the Exceptional Tier. You two get to be the _main event_." He knew just what to say to secure his student's participation. It was almost _too_ easy.

Just when it seemed like Naruto couldn't have gotten any more excited, he did it. Every single time. It was another one of his remarkable gifts—he had no upper limit. He was always able to find more enthusiasm, almost despite all odds. He looked to Sasuke and gave a more subdued, knowing grin. "You're going down for _sure_ this time, Sasuke!"

Sasuke chuckled, keeping his head still. "We'll see, Naruto...I've come up with a few new tricks, even though I can't use the full strength of my eyes in the tournament."

Naruto clenched his fist and set it in front of his face. "So have I! This is going to be the battle I've always wanted to have with you...so don't you dare go and ruin it by losing in the first round or something, alright?"

"It's a promise," Sasuke said to appease his eventual opponent. They both knew better than to believe that the other one would lose, so it was an eventuality that they would face one another. Still, walking around with that kind of pomposity was no fun. "Same goes to you, though. I know how rusty you've probably gotten since the war..."

Naruto sneered, his lip twitching. "Take it back, Sasuke, I've only gotten stronger!"

Sasuke shrugged, tilting his head and closing his eyes. "I guess you'll just have to prove it to me, then, loser." There was a tonal wink with that final word, a callback to simpler times. Times before the betrayal, before the forgiveness—back when they were teammates, and nothing more or less. Sasuke started to walk out for the sake of a dramatic exit, but when Hinata went to follow him, Naruto spoke up.

"Hey, Sasuke...Hinata. Do either of you want to come to dinner with me and Sakura tonight?" Naruto received an entirely-expected thump on the head from his wife.

"You just ate _six_ _bowls_ of ramen, Naruto. Do you really need to eat _again_?" Sakura wasn't _actually_ that angry, but maybe she had some other kind of reservation about the invitation.

"But I ate those with my _fans_ , Sakura! I want to eat with my _friends_ now..." He was rubbing his head where he had been thumped, but it obviously didn't hurt. "Besides, there's a lot we should talk about, and I don't want to keep crowding Kakashi-sensei's office, y'know?"

Sakura sighed with mild defeat. "You're right, I know...it's just..." She looked to Sasuke, then to Hinata. The feeling she had toward them _wasn't_ jealousy. If anything, it was _worry_ —worry about what was going to happen between them. Was their companionship going to wind up _hurting_ one of them in the end? Both of them? Sakura wasn't oblivious. She knew via the confession from his own mouth what the wedding had done to Sasuke...but she also knew better than Naruto did about what was bothering Hinata. Despite Naruto's empathy, his perception when it came to women was almost nonexistent. Aside from the genuine, impulsive stuff like the hugging, kissing, and accidentally-romantic speeches, Sakura had basically needed to spoon-feed Naruto every single traditional thing in the book while he was courting her.

He would buy flowers for her because she _suggested_ it, not because he decided to do it on his own whim. Sakura almost felt _manipulative_ for pointing him the right direction to please her, but he honestly had no clue. So, of _course_ he was oblivious to Hinata's deep feelings for him. Hinata was just as crushed by the wedding as Sasuke was, though she was much quieter about it. Again, Sakura imagined the shared smiles in the wedding photo—her mind kept going back to that image whenever she saw them together. Had the pair met that night? Talked? Fallen for one another? There were a lot of conclusions to draw, and Sakura was drawing _all of them_. "It's just that I'm kind of tired. Wouldn't tomorrow be better?"

Naruto flexed his face, turning his mouth to the side and looking up toward the ceiling. "I _really_ wanna start training tomorrow, though. And if I do _that_ , I'm gonna wind up too exhausted to do anything at the end of the day. I want to go tonight! What do you guys think?" He was looking at Sasuke and Hinata, and they were both facing opposite directions from one another awkwardly.

"I'm busy tonight," Sasuke said first, telling it to the wall.

He expected Hinata to echo the sentiment, but something had apparently set her off on another path. When Naruto frowned at Sasuke's answer and then returned to filling out his entry form, Hinata tugged the side of Sasuke's hanging cloak and whispered up to him. "I-I'm actually pretty hungry, Sasuke...aren't _you_?" She knew Sasuke hadn't eaten since morning, because _she_ hadn't, either. She was looking up at him with a beckoning wideness in her eyes, a _'let's get it over with'_ kind of pleading. In Hinata's mind, she and Sasuke were going to have to sit down with Naruto and Sakura _eventually_. So, she figured, why not mark it down as being finished right away? The mountain was still in front of her. It wasn't going to shrink on its own—she had to start _climbing_ it. And so did Sasuke, whether he wanted to or not. "Let's go with them..."

Sasuke looked at her with open eyes and slightly-spread lips, like he was in the littlest state of shock possible. Shock, nonetheless. "Are you sure?" he wondered softly.

Hinata shook her head, smiling sweetly. "No...but we should do it anyway. I want to take my mind off of what happened to Hanabi..."

"Wait, something happened to Hanabi?" Sakura suddenly asked, peeping up from her own entry form and then blushing slightly when she was met with awkward silence. She outed herself for eavesdropping, but it was too late to take it back.

Hinata lifted both of her hands and took a stumbling step back, bumping the side of her hip into a nearby table and rattling the contents upon it slightly. "Oh, uh...nothing, nothing really," she tried to defuse the moment, but out of _all_ the unconvincing things she had said in her lifetime, that one was probably the _least_ convincing yet. "She's fine. Everything's okay."

Sakura scrunched her nose. "Alright, if you say so," she relented right away, aided by the fact that she shouldn't have been listening in on the private little discussion in the first place. She couldn't help herself, though—she was still a ninja, still trained to gather information wherever she could find it. She added her signature to the bottom of her entry form. _General Tier,_ it said. Naruto was still finishing up, and Sakura peered over at him.

Naruto looked back, then noticed Sakura's finished entry. "General, eh? Not gonna try to compete with me?" He flexed his good, unwrapped arm, snickering with closed eyes. "Can't blame ya. I'm pretty scary, huh?"

Sakura rolled her eyes in an affectionate way, then pecked a kiss on her spouse's nose. "I'd just hate to bruise that handsome face of yours. I'm going to be looking at it every day for the rest of my life, right?" She winked, and Naruto chuckled gladly. "If I'm _stuck_ with you, I might as well do what I can to keep you pretty."

The newlywed jinchuriki was all smiles while he finished out his own application, and when it was signed with his practically-trademarked name, he passed his own and his wife's files toward Kakashi, who took them and sorted them in with the rest of the entries after a quick glance at the details. Everything was in order, and he let them know it: "Perfect. I'll finalize Konoha's roster after the deadline next week, and if luck is on our side the first match of the tournament will happen within a month or two. I'll keep everybody up to speed as best I can."

While folding his hands behind his head, Naruto stretched his back and torso with a lengthy groan. "A month or two? Man, I wish it'd be sooner...you got me all excited, and now you're telling me I have to _wait_...?" He grumbled slightly, but even in his complaints there was a giddy excitement. He was hooked from word one, and every detail after that just made it even more enticing.

"It won't be _that_ long, Naruto; I assure you that we're moving as quickly as we can. We'll need to coordinate with all of the other Hidden Villages, and that in itself takes time. Plus, we need to leave enough room to advertise the contest, make lodging and travel arrangements for participants and spectators from other lands, and we'll also have to make sure that the tournament venue is properly set up. Although we're using the existing exams stadium, a few modifications need to be made—even with the restrictions in place, there are going to be circumstances that we'll need to guard against."

Sasuke nodded from the corner, voicing his agreement before Naruto could try to speed the delicate process through the power of impatience. "He's right, Naruto—give him the time he needs to ensure that the spectators remain safe. This won't be like the Chunin Exams. There will be several combatants involved that are powerful enough to blow a hole through the village from one side to the next."

Naruto scoffed, folding his arms and turning away from the desk. "Fine, I guess I'll find _something_ to do until it's ready..."

Sasuke nodded, helping Kakashi with keeping their hyperactive comrade appeased. "We can start with that dinner invitation, then. I think I _am_ hungry, after all..." He gave a sidelong glance to Hinata; she stood to his left and was a head-and-a-half shorter than him. She was smiling with approval, giving him silent thanks. "Have you got a place in mind, Naruto?"

Naruto was opening his mouth, probably about to suggest _more_ ramen, but Sakura clasped her hand over his mouth and spoke for them both. "Akimichi's sounds good, don't you think?" Sakura had a chipper smile on, despite her initial protests and Naruto's over-exaggerated, muffled complaints beneath her gloved hand.

"As good as anywhere else, I suppose." Sasuke was as neutral as possible, though he was already feeling the pressure. A crowded restaurant, together with Hinata, and 'blessed' with the company of the village's most cherished hero—what could possibly go wrong?

Kakashi wasn't going to save him, either. "Have fun, you four. If I have any concerns about the tournament, I'll be sure to send a summons to each of you. Consider yourselves to be my unofficial council for this event." He was waving his hand left to right, his mask upturned against his nose slightly to give away the smile underneath the thick material.

"Awesome!" Naruto announced once his mouth was freed from Sakura's hold. "I'll go on ahead and get us a table." He was out the door without saying any goodbyes, and his quick departure left a slight gust of wind behind, just enough to blow out all of the still-burning candles dotting the office's perimeter.

"I'd better keep up with him, or else he's going to start eating before any of us get there..." Sakura sighed, but despite the seeming dysfunction of their marriage, she had never looked happier around the eyes. Even at her most moody, she emanated an energetic glee; she had always been a woman of action, and Naruto's semi-manic personality seemed to mesh well with her inner desire to stay on her toes all day long. She headed out the door, waving to Sasuke, Hinata, Kakashi, and Shizune all at once. "Bye Lady Shizune, Lord Sixth!" Then, to Sasuke and Hinata: "See you two in a bit!" Then she was past the door frame and out of sight.

Kakashi made sure that the door was closed behind her before he took on a grave face and added something serious to the end of their gathering: "I'll do some digging into those two men and their records. Sasuke, I'll let you know what I find. As for you, Hinata, try to keep an eye open. If they're targeting the Hyuuga clan, you may be the next one on their list."

"I'll keep her safe," Sasuke said, leaving no room for doubt or debate. "If anybody is brave or dumb enough to attack her, I'll make absolutely _sure_ that they survive, just so they can regret it..."

A chill filled the room. Silence fell over the four who remained. Kakashi broke it, as always, with a diversion from the doom and gloom: "Have a nice meal, then."

Sasuke nodded his head, then left without another word. Hinata followed behind, rattled a bit by the intensity of the Uchiha's declaration. There was a real sense of hatred in the way he spoke, and while it was a frightening thing to hear, Hinata felt like she was well and truly safe no matter _what_ might have happened in the coming times.

When they were gone and the room belonged to Kakashi and his assistant alone once more, the leader gave a short list of orders that were already being followed: "Shut off the lights, lock the door, and relight the candles, please..." It was done by the time he closed his mouth, and he chuckled softly. "I'm starting to think that you can read my mind, Shizune."

The dark-haired companion gave him a playful smirk as she sauntered back over to his side, taking the robe off of his desk and draping it over the shoulders of his seated self. "I wouldn't be such a great assistant if I _couldn't_ , Lord Sixth."

With the dim, soft aura restored to the room, Kakashi leaned back in his chair. He was able to get comfortable, and finally he turned his sensitive document back over to re-read it. "Now, where were we?" His finger pinpointed a line halfway down the current page, and he started to ponder it with fresh thoughts.

* * *

 **Sorry this one took so long. As I mentioned at the end of the last chapter, my cousin was in town until the 4th, and _on_ the 4th I was out of the house. As soon as I caught my breath, it was back to writing. I hope this chapter was at least _partially_ worth the wait! Let me know what you think. If you have any questions, feel free to ask within a review! Unfortunately, I can't answer guest reviews directly since there's no messaging feature for them. If you want a personal response, be sure to submit a signed user review so I can get back to you with a PM!**

 **As always, thanks for the support of all kinds!**


	20. It's Worse than She Thought

**Enjoy!**

* * *

The trip through the streets of Konoha was quick, and Sasuke found himself trapped by Hinata's unwavering willingness to share time with Naruto and Sakura. She was quiet as he forged their path ahead, weaving his shoulder through the crowd and tilting himself aside to slip through the cracks. Very few of the citizens noticed his face, and that was by design—he wanted nothing more than to go unnoticed. Kakashi was _right_ , even despite the light dash of sarcasm—the village saw Sasuke as an enemy, of sorts. He felt a panic rise in the people around him when he stood in one area for too long. The only _civilian_ who seemed to accept his presence was the old man in the candy shop, the one who had known him since childhood. Sasuke briefly thought about that old man. _He called me Pain, though. He doesn't even know the difference between me and the monster who turned this place into a pit._ It wasn't the elder's fault, Sasuke knew. Rumors had a tendency to become warped and illogical after being passed around between adults, children, and simpletons alike.

Hinata was behind him while he navigated the walkways, occasionally being forced to stop and step aside to make room for heavy carts full of metal wares—junk, mostly. Most were filled with scraps and burnt wiring no doubt left behind after failed experiments. Sasuke knew the slimmest basics about what was being researched and developed by the village's brightest minds—he also knew that Shikamaru Nara was a part of the project, with his impeccable genius contributing greatly to the massive strides being made in relatively short order. The new developments were not 'specifically' related to warfare, but that was all the general public actually knew about the matter. 'Specifically related' being the keywords. It didn't take much more than a child's intelligence to figure that such a carefully selected term meant that there _were_ military applications, but those applications were sure to be discouraged in the current climate.

With the discarded, singed metal having finished passing through the narrow corridor, Sasuke was on the move again. Hinata spoke up from behind him, following each move he made to keep the same pace through the crowd. "You're not angry, are you Sasuke?" She asked carefully through the warm gusts of the night in spring.

"Why would I be angry?" He replied, keeping his eyes forward until he rounded the last corner and set his sights upon the restaurant known to the entire village. He took a breath and swallowed the latest build of saliva in his mouth, huffing outward and clenching his fist before he closed the gap and mounted the stairs.

Hinata didn't answer until Sasuke's hand was on the door. "I know you didn't want to come...but you came for _me_ , right? I just don't want you to be mad at me for dragging you here..." Without fail, her voice pulled in all sorts of sympathy and genuine care. No matter how strong she was getting, no matter how much more confidence beamed through her eyes, she was always going to have that quality about her. Her mannerisms spoke clearly on her behalf; her soul itself made declarations toward the people who were her friends: _Protect me; cherish me;_ _ **love**_ _me._ Little violet feathers seemed to dance around her, brightly shining and pulling reverent eyes toward her like a beacon in the dark. There was an aura encapsulating her that was impossible to escape, even for a person like Sasuke. At least, she _seemed_ to have all those ethereal qualities—was it all in his head, though? Was he the only one who could see it?

The handle to the restaurant was neatly designed, with a sloped, rounded vertical hand grip and a button laid on the top for the thumb to press. Rather than turning the handle itself, the button is what slid the latch out of the way and allowed for the massive door to swing free. Red and gray with traces of gold and brown, the surprisingly-light, massive gateway swung open into familiar scents, sounds, and colors. Sasuke answered Hinata as the voices of multiple diners drowned his words out slightly—strategically. He couldn't risk being overheard. He knew how dangerous it could be to speak the truth for others to hear. "I can't be mad at you, Hinata. You only did what you thought was right." He stepped inside, holding the door open for her and watching the entrance behind—he was on guard, though he didn't sense any trouble in the immediate vicinity. Just as Hinata whisked past him, he leaned down to whisper at her ear: "If you want me to tell you the truth...I'm _proud_ of you for coming here."

Hinata paused half-way through the door, conspicuously bringing a hand up to hurriedly brush through her hair. She tried to make it seem like she was just straightening a few windblown strands, but the blush growing upon her cheeks was a giveaway. "I-it's because of you, Sasuke. It's easier when you're around..." She wanted to look him in the eyes, to thank him sincerely, but her head was full of all kinds of swarming emotions. She knew she couldn't possibly get the _right_ look if she tried, so instead she focused on an empty chair to her left. "Thanks..." she mumbled, barely audible over the conversations flooding the place.

While she played with her locks, Sasuke smiled with half of his mouth, then turned to face the familiar greeter at the podium a dozen paces from the door. Authoritatively, he announced his arrival with a silent glance, and the attentive host lifted his pad and pen. "Ahh, Mr. Uchiha, you've come again! Glad to see you!" He flipped a page backward and poked an entry with the tip of his finger. "Naruto and Sakura said you'd be coming, so you and Lady Hinata can go on back and meet them in private room number four!" He poked his pen over his shoulder, giving a terse sort of guidance toward their assigned destination.

Sasuke furrowed his brow. A private room with such a crowd already in place, and with reservations stacked up and hungry patrons waiting in the numerous chairs in the foyer? Despite Naruto's low-quality apartment and pitiful savings, he _did_ seem to get the occasional heroic consideration. Deciding not to argue with or question the circumstance, Sasuke offered up a nod and looked to Hinata. "Thank you, sir," he said first, directed to the Akimichi clan member whose name he wasn't sure of. Then, to Hinata and _quietly_ , he whispered a secret: "I'd prefer if you took the lead. I want to avoid notice..."

Hinata tilted her head, but she nodded and walked past him, turning to look subtly over her shoulder to be sure that he wasn't about to abandon her as she let him out of sight. He wouldn't have done that, would he? She wanted to believe that he was too sure of himself to ever shy away from _anything_. Fortunately, he followed behind her when she stepped across the threshold leading into the dining area. The carpet was red and firm, almost slippery with how smooth the material was, like little tiny bristles all cooperating to carry her feet along. The scent of the saucy ribs and various desserts hit her nose more completely when she entered, and her memories were forcefully triggered—she felt the hopelessness again, the loneliness. She had been in that place with Hanabi before, on a day that seemed so long ago. She was cold, and lonely, and afraid. It was a visceral, _real_ feeling as the memory of Naruto's dreamed abuse played in her mind.

She almost turned to leave, but then the memories completed themselves as a circle—she wasn't _only_ there with Hanabi on that day two weeks prior. No, she had come back again. With Sasuke. She looked to him a second time as the clear recollection came to her, seeing that he was obviously disinterested in his surroundings, but was constantly _looking_ at them. She smiled at his stoic appearance, even though she still hated to see him wearing that dark cloak of his. The color made him seem a bit scary, but the real problem was that it still made him look like he was preparing for a long journey—a long journey that would take him away from the village; away from _her_. She remembered what they talked about during their spontaneous dinner. _Too much_ , they had talked about. He had told her things she never knew, and he seemed to act as if he had never done so before. Was he usually ashamed of his own feelings? Or maybe he was only trying to make _her_ feel better, and none of what he had said was the truth. She was vulnerable, especially then, so it could be that he was intentionally showing his own manufactured vulnerability to make her feel less alone.

Since that moment, she hadn't recalled seeing the same vulnerability in him again—except for one key moment, one _second_ of expression that made her feel the _exact_ same thing as he. It had been the present day, only hours earlier, and Sakura had pierced the crowd to call Sasuke's name. In that instant, he had been _afraid_ of her—rather, afraid of what she meant within him. Hinata was often shy and introverted, but she was perceptive. She saw the powerful emotional barrier around Sasuke shatter _immediately_ at the sight of Naruto's wife. The Uchiha had supposedly been there to reassure Hinata, yet he seemed to need his _own_ reassurances instead. Hinata wanted so dearly to give confidence to him, but when she saw him falter, she faltered as well. That was when she ran through the crowd to hide. Naruto had been coming, too, and without Sasuke's rock of support she had no chance of facing him. Or so she thought at first; since then, she had been able to think more clearly about it for a short while. Sasuke's guard had fallen, his eyes had softened—Sakura definitely made him look _weak_. Yet, in the face of death and beneath the harsh gaze of Hanabi, he had been like stone. He wasn't _weak_ , he was just _in_ _love_. And it was a love that could never be realized, just like what Hinata felt for Naruto.

She knew that she shouldn't have abandoned him back then; he might have needed her, just like she needed _him_ the same way. When Sasuke initially turned down Naruto's invitation in the Hokage's office, Hinata knew that it was because of what happened earlier that day—and on days even earlier than that, throughout the past years. The Hyuuga girl hadn't given it much thought before, but on the night of the wedding, Sasuke had pretty clearly admitted to being in love with Sakura. He was so good at _hiding_ it, so capable of tucking his troubles underneath a mask of stability, that she didn't really think about it again until the newly-named Uzumaki with the pink hair came home and made it clear again. Hinata had convinced Sasuke to take the invitation, not because she particularly wanted to face Naruto...but because she owed it to Sasuke to be there, to push him like he had pushed her.

She gripped the door handle to the fourth private room, aptly labeled with an elaborate, gold-plated '4' above the frame and against a red, circular backdrop with a few swirly embellishments coming off like tendrils. It looked to Hinata like a sunset falling through wispy clouds. She thought of clouds, of the sun, of peace, of her bed, of Sasuke's eyes within her dream—and then she turned the handle and slid the door open along its sideways track. Her eyes had been closed, but she peeked one lid open to see what was in store. That room was cooler in temperature than the larger room, and she felt a small chill wash over her when the pressure between areas equalized properly. She looked at the table, with four menus laid out and four chairs positioned around the circle. Naruto was in one, and Sakura was in another beside him, both hands on his shoulders to massage him—though it wasn't like an affectionate touch, more like a trainer preparing a fighter for a big match.

Sakura looked up to spot Hinata, then she smiled and gave a small inward wave, beckoning the guest closer. "Hinata, you made it! Come on in, we've been waiting on you." She narrowed her eyes slightly and puffed her lips out a bit. "Where's Sasuke?"

Hinata huffed in through her nose and looked behind her—had he slipped away? Oh. No. He was right there, just standing out of sight behind the door frame. "H-he's right here," Hinata uttered with a tremble of relief. She actually felt momentarily guilty for thinking that he had abandoned her. Especially since she had done it to _him_ once already. Hinata looked at Sasuke, and he looked back at her with no discernible expression. She gulped, then faced toward Sakura and put on a polite, trained smile just like her father once taught her. "Thank you for waiting." She bowed slightly, then entered the room and moved to take a seat. The chair was pulled out for her to sit in, and she blinked, looking over her shoulder and expecting— _hoping_ —to see Sasuke. But she didn't.

It was Choji Akimichi, who had been in the room already, though he was somewhat obscured against the background due to the gray-red tones of his outfit blending in so well with the walls and carpeting of the private room. "Welcome, Hinata! When I heard that Naruto was coming, I decided to wait on him myself! Didn't expect you and Sasuke, too, but that's even better!" His voice was boisterous and cheerful, and some aspects of his speech seemed almost like a hog's snort. "C'mon in, Sasuke, it's been a long time since I've seen you!"

Sasuke was still outside the hidden room, still debating. He had followed Hinata in, had told her to take the lead—because initially he was planning to duck out and leave her to fend for herself, but when his feet tried to move, they felt heavy. He was being pulled, as if magnetically, toward the girl as she took him closer and closer to the dinner he never wanted to eat. He was hungry, of course, but he had been hungry before and survived just _fine_. There were a dozen _good_ places to eat, and even two dozen more _mediocre_ places around the village. He would have rather been at any one of them. Anything to be away from Sakura, and especially from Naruto, the man who stole her. He had felt nice and confident when he pushed Hinata to face up to Naruto, but when it was _his_ turn to face his fears, he felt like a flopping fish in the middle of a desert. He was exposed out there; he was sucking the air while finding nothing to _breathe_ , and a single bead of sweat fell down his cheek beneath his heavy, hanging hair.

He heard Choji's voice, and heard his name as it came with it. Sasuke inhaled hard through his nose and then tightened his chest before making himself visible around the door and giving a nod. "Good seeing you, too," he managed to mumble as he brought himself to his own chair and took a seat almost begrudgingly.

Choji blinked. He felt suddenly _cold_. "A-anyway...somebody at the door could've taken that cloak, you know..." He stepped toward Sasuke with his hand out, but he paused halfway and gulped, hastily reconsidering. "On second thought, I'll just take drink orders now." He stepped backward, pulled up a notepad, then primed a pencil against the rough paper. "What'll we have?"

Sakura ordered tea with a spritz of lemon, Naruto got some sort of sugary, carbonated concoction of unknown origins, then Hinata quietly ordered water...and Sasuke held up a hand, as if refusing to order anything at all. Sakura spoke up for him, slanting her eyes and scowling. "Bring him some water, please." With Sakura's order on Sasuke's behalf, that made a total of four drinks, and Choji scrawled out the details on his paper.

"I'll get those right out to you, then!" He turned and quickly scurried out of the room like he was running from something, shutting the door behind him and nearly breaking the sliding track in his rush as the wood slammed into the frame.

Sakura heaved a sigh. "Sasuke, I think you just about scared him to death..."

Sasuke hummed. "I don't see how."

"I swear the room dropped twenty degrees when you came in," Sakura retorted, leaning back in her chair and folding her arms under her ribs. "If you don't want to be here, you can just _say_ so. I'm not gonna be angry, and neither will Naruto." She looked over to her husband to see that he was looking at the ceiling to admire the décor. Upon the blades of a gently-spinning wooden fan, there were a dozen carved reliefs of lions, dragons, and wolves. The place was fancy, there was no doubt about it.

"I've just got a lot on my mind," Sasuke explained, closing his eyes and leaning back as well, practically mirroring Sakura's posture. He didn't want to see _her_ ; he frankly didn't want to see _anything_. Despite his semi-willing presence there, he decided that he would have much rather been in his ratty, single-bed apartment by himself. _Completely_ by himself, he assured his own mind...but was that the truth? The scent of violets, subtle but easy to pick out, had taken root in his senses even as he tried to shut himself out from the surroundings.

Sakura was watching Sasuke closely. His attitude hadn't changed; he was still detached, still so _cool_. She looked from him to Hinata, then to Naruto who was still watching the fan blades spin. She smiled, then reached her hand over to grasp the shortened-but-still-clenchable spikes of his blonde hair, pulling his head slightly forward to point him at Hinata and Sasuke across the table from him. "Naruto, don't be rude. These are _your_ guests, remember?"

Naruto grumbled. "Yeah, I know...but this place is so _nice_. They didn't have to give us a private room, y'know? I kinda _like_ being out with the rest of the people. And Choji's supposed to be a _chef_ , right? Why's he waiting on us like we're royalty or something?"

Sakura put her hand over her face and sighed. "You act like this is the first time we've gotten special treatment. You saved the world, and you never let people _forget_ about it. How is it that you can brag so much but still be surprised when people give you benefits?" She rolled her eyes, then looked to Hinata, because Sasuke was a closed-off, lost cause for the moment. "I apologize for my husband. He's a bit of a moron." She winked toward Naruto, proving it was in jest.

Naruto had a silly grin again, as if he really liked the playful ribbing he got from her. "I'm working on it, though! One of these days I'm gonna be as smart as Shikamaru, or maybe even Kakashi-sensei!" He took on that confident posture of defying the world, arms raised up to chest level, fists out, a cocky grin showing all his white teeth, little fangs in the corner of his mouth. "I've gotta brush up on the boring stuff if I want to be the best Hokage _ever_ , after all."

Sasuke smirked and addressed that notion without opening his eyes. "You're still going on about that, huh? Some things never change..." He had a mocking smirk on his face, completely intentional.

Naruto grumbled, shaking his fist and scrunching his nose. "How many times am I gonna have to tell you about my ninja way, huh Sasuke? I brought _you_ back, after all. After everything I went through for that, becoming Hokage is going to be a _snap_." Completed with a snap of his fingers over the table.

"You've got a long way to go—and don't put your elbows on the table." Sasuke was still smirking, still enjoying himself in a particular way. He was glad to trade meaningless words with Naruto; it almost made him forget about the long list of his own personal regrets and failures.

Naruto looked down at the table, realizing that his elbows _were_ weighing heavily upon it. Sasuke's eyes were closed, and it ticked Mr. Uzumaki off. "How'd you even know I _had_ my elbows on the table?! _Gaaah_! You still think you're so damn _cool_!" He ran his hands through his own light-colored hair, ruffling it back and forth chaotically.

Sakura allowed the two to have a brief bickering session. Their 'family' was a _bit_ dysfunctional, but she wouldn't have had it any other way. Her attention went to Hinata, the quiet one who was practically _sulking_ in the corner; her chair was far from the table and her hands were crossed in her lap. The exact opposite of Naruto. "So, Hinata...how are things at home? I don't get to see you very much, these days..."

Hinata peered up from the interesting nothingness beneath the table, giving Sakura a gentle glance. "Things are fine, thank you for asking." She nodded, then Sakura nodded. That seemed to just about be the end of it. Naruto and Sasuke were still trading little pokes of words when Choji returned with the drinks and passed them out quickly—he gave Sasuke his iced water first, as if to get it out of the way in order to end up on Naruto's half of the table to take the larger orders. He seemed to feel safer over there.

"So, had time to look at the menus?" Choji called out, keeping his eyes intentionally diverted from the last Uchiha. "I'll take all your orders, then cook 'em up myself! Only the best for our hero! Erm, I mean _heroes_?" He corrected, recalling that Sasuke also played a significant part in the final hours of the war. Naruto finally opened the menu, but he picked something pretty quickly—ramen. Sakura twitched her brow but stayed silent about his boring choice, ordering herself a tomato-based soup flavored up with garlic and chives, further layered with small flecks of thin-sliced beef. Even though she had never gotten it before, the picture upon the menu looked pretty appetizing to her.

Hinata's turn came, and she whispered. "A half-order of ribs...deboned, without sauce, please." She bowed her head, expecting somebody to comment on her supposed ruination of the dish. Maybe it was _blasphemy_ , but she couldn't help it—that was what she had eaten on her first outing with Sasuke, even though she didn't honestly know _why_ she had ordered them like that. She had said that it was just the way she _liked_ them, but she really didn't have anything _against_ the bones or sauce. For some reason, she had wanted them as plain and simple as possible; it was her way of making order out of the chaos that her life had become. This time, though, she ordered them that way in order to _remind_ herself of that past night; that was the night where things really started looking up again for the first time. Mercifully, nobody seemed to comment on her selection. Everybody's interest was focused on Sasuke.

Moments passed. Sasuke's eyes opened slowly, and the pupils at the center of his blackened irises went toward Choji. The tension rose; the chef/waiter felt his shoulders squeeze together and the pressure nearly choked him. He swallowed hard as he was peered into, as if his very soul might have been sucked out through a nostril at any time. Silence, and then..."I'll have a medium-sized bowl of rice, nothing added." Sasuke said at last, nonchalantly, then folded his menu closed.

There was a collective 'sigh' of relief despite nobody making a sound. Hinata seemed confused—why was everybody so tense around Sasuke? She hadn't quite realized that she had gotten _used_ to Sasuke's attitude, and because nobody else seemed to know him like she had come to, their fear of him seemed odd. Two weeks of intense training had a way of giving little insights, one at a time, until a picture was naturally formed. And she liked what she had seen, as small as it really was.

Choji gulped harshly, having tried to speak at first, but he accidentally grunted instead. The second try went better. "Alright! I've got all your orders down; give me a few minutes to whip it all up and I'll be right back!"

"Hey, thanks Choji!" Naruto piped up, cutting through the apprehension and making everything alright again. Their server left the room and Naruto looked at Hinata, having already had his little spat with Sasuke. "So, Hinata...I know you said it's not a big deal, but I really wanna know what's bugging you. It's like you've been acting strange for a long time and I haven't got any idea why...is it about Neji?" He took a shot in the dark, tried his best, but he got a shaken head in return.

"N-no, it's not about him. I miss him every day, but he's still here in spirit to keep me going." She quivered and rolled her head to one side, eyes down. "Please don't worry about me, Naruto..." Hinata was blushing plainly beneath the lower curve of her eyes. "I'll be fine."

Naruto didn't seem all that convinced. "I dunno," he tentatively groaned, lowering one brow. "You don't seem like yourself, so it can't be anything _that_ small. Just give me a hint, at least?" He leaned over the table, putting his elbows on it without hesitation and tilting the sturdy oak in his direction slightly. Sakura put a hand on his shoulder and tugged him backward into his seat. He huffed, but surrendered. Momentarily. "Fine, but I'm not gonna stop asking until you tell me something."

Sakura still had her suspicion about Hinata's 'problem,' so she tried to defuse it. "Naruto, don't push her so hard. It might be something really personal...you know, _sensitive_? Like maybe something she only wants to talk about with _certain_ _people_?" She gave him a glance that tried to make him understand, but it was no use—or, one might say, there was no _need_ for the glance.

Naruto looked up to the ceiling, huffing out a breath. "Yeah, I get it..." He turned his eyes to the left, spotting Sakura leaning in to kiss his cheek. He smiled at her, big and happy. Their hands came together between them.

Sasuke watched the husband and wife interact, and he felt the raw love beneath every word and subtle gesture. They even _breathed_ in synch with one another, like they had some connection of the subconscious that ran deeper than anything that could ever have been visible. When they argued, they were merely voicing something that they intrinsically understood between one another; it was like they only went through the motions for the sake of others to witness it. Were it just a matter of feelings, Sakura and Naruto would never need to utter a single word to one another. Sasuke felt his jealousy bubbling up again, and his fist tightened at his knee where his hand had come to rest. He felt his fingernails digging at his palm, felt the tension shaking in his elbow and wrist. His heel tapped against the soft carpet soundlessly under his chair, subtle enough to go unnoticed except by Hinata at his left. He was feeling a vein thumping in his temple, a pumping urge to activate his eye once again and rid the world of things that caused him pain.

He was looking at Naruto, and also looking at Sakura—separate human beings, yet a single mixture, a concoction of mutual feelings. There were no words to describe the fire of Sasuke's jealousy; he had a boiling, bubbling desire to _force_ the world to cease hurting him. But it wasn't just the _world_ , anymore—the painful wars had ceased; the deadly conflicts on a grand scale between nations were essentially nonexistent. The entire planet was meant to be at peace, so why was Sasuke feeling such horrible turmoil? Was it fate's cruel sense of justice, a way of making him pay for his crimes eternally? He sometimes questioned the nature of his existence, his purpose for remaining alive. Again, he caught himself forming the same repetitive, destructive, hopeless thought: _The world might have been better off if I had just died at the Valley of the End..._

Mid-thought, he felt his vanished left hand squeeze tight in his mind, and his knee felt a rather curious pressure against it where his fingers should have been. His breath caught, his train of thinking shattered, and his eyes fell down beneath the table to spot what had touched him. It was a hand, certainly, but not his—Hinata had gently laid her palm against his thigh, and her fingers curled around the slope of his hard knee. He realized that he had been holding his breath, and that his teeth had been grinding together. The tension slipped away when he looked up from the hand to see the face of his savior, the woman who had pulled him out of desolation and back into the light of the family-friendly, inviting restaurant. He no longer felt cold; he no longer felt alone. Hinata's hand was more than a hand, it was a bridge. He crossed it again, just as he had crossed the gateway into the village. Two times, now, she had welcomed him back from the brink in the same day. He swallowed and blinked, feeling the pressure of his chair against his slumped back. All the fight seeped out of him. There were no more doubts. Hinata was _there_ for him, and he didn't want her to go away. His declaration in the Hokage's office had been a bit premature; a harsh, heated announcement. _I'll keep her safe,_ he had said. At the time, it had felt accidental—a slip of the tongue that had followed its intended course before being caught. There at the table, then, with his eyes on her worried face and his knee feeling the warmth of her fingers through the layer of his pants, he knew that it was no accident. He had meant every word he said; his mind simply hadn't caught up with his heart quite yet to know it.

Sakura and Naruto finished their little display of affection, and while Naruto began to guzzle his fizzing, green-tinted beverage, Sakura turned her eyes toward their silent guests. She saw something jarring; Sasuke had a small smile on his lips, and so did Hinata. They were looking at one another. Hinata's arm was slanted a bit, but the table blocked Sakura's view of where it ended up. She guessed that she was touching Sasuke. Whether it was on the knee, the thigh, or the hand, it hardly mattered—the point was that the pair was getting uncomfortably close together in their chairs. Sakura kneaded the cloth of the lower hem of her shirt, shaking a little. She felt that emotion again, that thing she called _worry_. She worried about their futures—she worried about how they would turn out. She worried about them falling in love, about them hurting one another. She worried, then worried some more. Worry, worry, worry, _worry_...it wasn't jealousy in _any_ way. Not even in the slightest. Nope.

 _Damn it, I really_ _ **am**_ _jealous..._ Sakura finally had to admit it. She had gone out of her way to justify her feelings, to name the sense of total dread she felt at the prospect that Sasuke and Hinata might wind up getting close. She called it worry, she called it hope, she called it friendly curiosity; she called that very same feeling a dozen different names, but all of them were part of the same large shield that protected her from her own swelling emotion. _I'm seriously jealous of Hinata for getting so much of Sasuke's attention?_ She tore her eyes off of Sasuke, then forced herself to admire the white, laced tablecloth meticulously laid upon their dining surface; it was wrinkled by Naruto's stray elbows. She grabbed her tea with a hurried hand, cracking the glass along the side in a tiny spiderweb thanks to her lack of restraint. No liquid leaked, but there was a clinking, crunching sound to give her away. She brought the glass to her lips, cold and wet against her hand, then tipped it back to take a drink. She _had_ to calm her nerves, to keep from thinking what she was thinking. _I got_ _ **over**_ _him, though. He_ _ **abandoned**_ _me. We weren't_ _ **meant**_ _for each other._ Despite her attempted self-assurances, there was no stopping it. That shared smile in the wedding photo of both Sasuke and Hinata had haunted Sakura since the moment she saw it—Sasuke had been in her thoughts, even as she enjoyed her honeymoon with Naruto. She _loved_ her husband, and that much was absolute—but she had underestimated the strength of the lingering feelings she still had for Sasuke.

She had been _so_ _sure_ that it wasn't jealousy that she had even tricked herself into believing that she was _happy_ that Sasuke and Hinata showed up to the welcoming party together that afternoon. "So...Sasuke, Hinata," Sakura said, clearing her throat first to disguise the way her words throbbed in her throat. The realization of her own pettiness was impactful, and she had to fight to keep the atmosphere calm. "You two get along pretty well. I'm glad."

Sasuke and Hinata each looked at Sakura with different reactions. Hinata realized that she had been caught staring at the dark-eyed Uchiha; she was blushing and stuttering when she smiled and tried to reply. Sasuke, that dashing, collected, infuriatingly-smooth rogue, looked to her without a twitch and gave her a nod, clarifying his official position: "That's right—we've been training together every day since just after the two of you left on your honeymoon."

Sakura nodded, and she tried to form a smile, but it didn't come quickly. She fought the urge to frown, battled against the twitching of her snarling lip, struggled to subdue the creasing of her forehead. "That's great!" she said aloud, expertly keeping her envy a secret. She had always wanted to train with Sasuke—it was unfair, really, that Hinata beat her to it. She tried to knock herself out of the cat-like coveting of the other man; she reminded herself that she hadn't been able to ask Sasuke for training because she was busy running off with her new _husband_ , the man she _loved,_ the man she said ' _yes_ ' to. The man who was hers for the rest of her life. "Naruto and I will start training too, come tomorrow...right, love?" She leaned her head onto Naruto's shoulder, as if visibly exaggerating her affection for him. Their love was deep, but the affection in front of Sasuke even seemed to take her esteemed spouse off his guard.

Naruto glanced over the side of his shoulder quizzically, finishing the long gulp he had been taking of his drink and plopping its container back down on the table—he missed the coaster, or he hadn't even aimed for it. Either way, a ring started to form around the glass base as the stray liquid seeped into the tablecloth. "Yep, that's right!" Naruto chimed, leaning his head over to press the side of his cheek against Sakura's, then draping an arm over her shoulders. "Bright and early, all day long! There's a lot I want to work on!"

Sakura rubbed her hand along Naruto's chest, really selling the moment as she laughed with him. She gave Sasuke a glance, and where she expected to see jealousy, she saw something more like judgemental disappointment. Was she _that_ transparent? She tensed and smiled again, nervously biting her lip and looking up to Naruto from where her cheek was perched on his upper arm. She had to _escape_. "Sweetheart, I'm going to visit the restroom for a moment before the food arrives...keep our friends entertained, alright?" She pecked a kiss on Naruto's lower jaw, then took her arms off of him and stood up, stepping out the door and closing it behind her without waiting for a response from anybody.

Her exit left silence behind, and Sasuke was about to say something before Naruto opened his mouth first. His eyes had a seriousness to them. "Sasuke, it looks like you've got a little something caught in your teeth...maybe you oughta follow Sakura. She knows where the washrooms are." He nodded his head toward the door, as if giving Sasuke a more direct 'hint' as to what he meant.

With an understanding nod, Sasuke stood up and gave Hinata an assessing glance. She looked like she was caught in a rainstorm, skittish and downtrodden, searching every direction for shelter. Sasuke whispered down to her, leaning toward her ear to make sure she heard him: "I won't be long, just hang in there." He gave her a lingering touch to the shoulder, something he had adopted as a non-verbal way of reassuring her, then he was out the door, leaving Hinata and Naruto alone together, forced to point themselves at each other from across the table.

Sakura wasn't going toward the bathroom, just like Sasuke _knew_ she wasn't. She was headed for the door, and she was going pretty fast. She got outside before Sasuke could easily weave between the tables and busy servers, and when he passed the foyer and stepped out the door himself, she was gone. The puzzled Uchiha didn't take long to figure where she had vanished to—he stepped down the staircase, turned around, and looked up. The restaurant itself was built in a multi-tiered style, with several slanted roofs, one to denote each floor of the structure. Sakura was perched on the second one from the top, her legs straddling a corner where a wooden beam extended outward then curled around. She was anxiously stroking through her lengthening hair with a brush she must have kept handy in the small pouch she always had behind her back.

Sasuke paused. Should he go up there? He had taken bigger risks in the past, and they had paid off—but of course some of them also _hadn't_ paid off. He considered flipping a coin, but he decided that he was just stalling, and with a graceful press of one foot, he launched into the air and settled perfectly onto the slanted roof with both of his rubber-soled feet. "Sakura," he began, ensuring that she wasn't surprised by his immediate arrival. "What was _that_ all about?"

It was Sakura's turn to feel the tension. She had almost _pitied_ Sasuke for the love he so obviously felt for her that would never be returned, but her ecstasy over being married had numbed the pain in her own heart upon seeing him. With the honeymoon over and done with, the numbing agent was easing off. "It's just not a good _time_ , I guess. Kind of in a bad mood, you know?" Sakura answered through a clogged throat. She seemed to be on the verge of crying; that must have been why she excused herself so suddenly. Truthfully, she was amazing at hiding her emotions—Sasuke never would have suspected her fragile state if he hadn't seen and heard her right there under the starlight.

Sasuke hummed and took a seat along the edge of the roof, letting his legs hang over the side. Behind him, there were orange, glowing windows that peered into the restaurant, but the two were out of view from the patrons inside, so long as their noses weren't pressed to the glass. He gave her a look that knew better than to believe her excuse: "In a bad mood after getting married and having a two week honeymoon, hmm?" His skepticism bled through pretty obviously.

Sakura winced. She knew it was a lame excuse, but she had been hoping that he would leave it at that. She shook out her own hands, doing anything to keep her blood flowing. She didn't want to end up getting lightheaded from the whirling inside her mind. "I was just thinking about the talk you and I had before I left...before _we_ left, I mean. You remember what I said?"

"You said a _lot_ of things," Sasuke responded flatly.

"Right, well...the part about how I moved on, but...I still kind of love you?" She blushed as the shame rose in her cheeks; no amount of increased blood flow was able to stop the shift. She hugged her shoulders and tightened her core, pulling her knees up to rest her chest against them. "Maybe it's worse than I thought..."

* * *

Naruto and Hinata were alone together, and almost as _soon_ as the door closed, the village hero stood up from his chair and set his hands, asymmetrical by way of rough bandages, upon the table firmly. "Look, Hinata...I didn't want to mention this in front of either of _them_ , y'know?" He had that serious look again, and Hinata felt tiny in front of his imposing posture. He almost seemed threatening, given the intensity of his stare, but there was genuineness in his voice and he had concern rippling along his blue irises. "I know exactly what's bothering you."

Hinata gulped, looking up at him and squeezing her knees, heels, and wrists together. "Y-you do?"

He nodded. "I get it, I swear," he continued. "I'm not gonna make you explain anything to me. Sakura still thinks I don't _get_ things like this, but I've learned a lot over the years." He went silent for a moment, then proved that he was on the right page: "You think that you didn't do enough to win me over, right?"

The accuracy of the deduction was a dart to Hinata's forehead, and she leaned backward against her chair as if to escape the statement's impact. "W-why would you think _that_ , Naruto...?" She _couldn't_ hide her admission despite trying to; she may not have said it out loud, but she knew it was plain on her face. She practically told him exactly how right he was in full detail just by glancing at him with that exposed look in her eyes.

Naruto set his hands on his hips, bunching up the long tail of his dressy shirt and then sliding his fingers into his pockets. "I heard what you said, back then...I didn't really know what you meant when you said it, but I definitely _heard_ it." He gave her a sad, guilt-ridden stare with his eyes partially slanted shut. "You were willing to die to protect me from Pain...and from the Juubi, too. You said that you _love_ me, and always would. I may not be the kind of genius that Shikamaru is, but I can piece together why you've been avoiding me since I proposed to Sakura. And you never hold grudges against other people, so I'm betting that you blame _yourself_ somehow."

Hinata shriveled up in her chair, lifting her feet off the floor and touching her heels to the front of her seat. She formed a little ball, hiding under the flowing, slightly-uneven state of her hair. She hadn't been given a chance to smooth it out since she finished training, given how hectic the day had been. "I _know_ why you chose her," Hinata said into her knee, biting on the black fabric of her pants and chewing to try to calm her nerves. "It's because I'm not good enough...I didn't _try_ hard enough..."

"Don't say anything like _that_ , Hinata," Naruto asserted, trying to ease the crushed girl's sorrow. He rounded the table and laid a strong hand on her upper back, rubbing up and down with a gentle motion to soothe her. Maybe it wasn't really the best time to bring it up, while waiting on food at a crowded restaurant, but he couldn't imagine another time when the two could be alone together long enough to have the inevitable discussion. "It's not that you weren't _good enough_ , Hinata, it's just...I've been close to Sakura since we were just kids, y'know? We didn't always get _along_ , and for years she wouldn't stop talking about Sasuke, but we kinda grew together over all that time, understand? See, it's not that I don't think _you're_ amazing, Hinata—I _do_ —the thing is that, after all the years we spent together, I just sorta fell in love with Sakura. That's not something I _chose_...it kinda _happened_ , y'know?"

Hinata knew what he meant. She knew a lot about how love worked—sometimes it just 'kinda happened' and she couldn't find it in herself to fault Naruto for saying so to explain himself. At least he was being completely _honest_ , and the even better part was that she didn't have to be the one to bring it up. She always hated being the first one to speak in a conversation. His tone was kind and his words were mostly harmless, letting her down gently. None of that made it any easier for her to swallow the truth, though. She trembled as she felt the press of his hand on her back, heavy but gentle in all the right ways. "I thought after what _we_ went through that you might be able to fall in love with _me_ , though...I did everything I could, and you seemed to really _like_ it when I came by to talk with you. I just don't get why it never became anything more..."

Naruto nodded, shutting his eyes. "Yeah, and I still _do_ like it when you talk to me, so don't stop, okay?" He gave her a pat on the shoulder, then took his hand away. He could see that the contact was making her hurt inside even more as she longed to be with him. "You're an _amazing_ friend, Hinata...you've given me a lot. You're one of my biggest inspirations, really..." He started naming names, counting off on his fingers. "The things you've done for me are just as important as what Kakashi-sensei, Iruka-sensei, Pervy-sage, Octopops, Itachi, Granny Tsunade, and Neji have all done for me...I'm alive and all the better because of every one of the great people I know—and you're _one_ of the great ones, okay? Don't forget it."

Hinata was about to thank him for the assurances, but then she felt a twinge in the rear of her neck. "D-did you say Itachi?"

Naruto blinked, then pursed his lips and slapped a hand over his mouth. He parted his fingers to mumble between them. "Y-yeah, I guess I did, huh?" He took that hand to the back of his head, rubbing the base of his hair and looking to the ceiling. "Don't worry about it, I guess my tongue just slipped..."

Hinata wasn't buying it, but she also didn't know what to make of it. She personally knew everybody who Naruto listed, save for that one name. Itachi. It was the same name as Sasuke's brother. Was it the very _same_ Itachi? If so, why would a mass-murderer be on Naruto's fairly short list of inspirations? She dropped the subject and reminded herself to ask Sasuke about it another time. "Naruto, thanks for making this easy on me...you're right about _everything_." She lifted her head from her knees and gently took her feet from the chair to set them both flat on the carpet beneath her. "I blame myself, but...you're right that love just happens. It happened when I first saw you, so I know what it feels like..."

Naruto's chair slid along the smooth red fabric on the floor as he sat back down across the table, seeing the conversation as being just about finished. "Then you know how strong of a feeling it can be...well, that's how I feel about Sakura. I hope you don't take it personally or anything, Hinata. You're plenty good enough for _anyone_ , so when you end up finding somebody even _better_ than me, make sure that you don't sell yourself short."

Smiling, Hinata gave a hum of confirmation. "I'll be the best I can be, Naruto...thanks for understanding." She was fully and honestly appreciative, even though the conversation had pretty much dashed her final hope for ever feeling _fulfilled_ in the matters of love. Anything else, she mused, would just be settling for 'second best'. _Unless_...

* * *

Sasuke bit the side of his tongue to get a handle on himself. Again, he was feeling angry, but not because of his own position in the scheme of things, for once. If everything he told himself about loving her was true, then he should have been _happy_ to hear what Sakura said, but he wasn't. He spoke what came to mind despite a last-ditch effort toward trying to head it off and think about gentler wording: "Worse than you _thought?_ What exactly are you _saying,_ Sakura...?"

Sakura closed her eyes but couldn't stem the flow of salty tears down both sides of her face. "I might've made a really _terrible_ mistake..." She hesitated, but eventually slammed the flat end of her fist against the roof shingles beside her in frustration, blasting several of them apart into tiny red fragments and sending them hurtling toward the empty street below. "It was—" she gasped inwardly after a tearful shudder. "It was _fine_ enough when you weren't around...when I couldn't see your face right in front of me. When it was just me and him together, I didn't have to constantly tell myself to _ignore_ how I felt about _you_. It was always about _him,_ and I was _happy!_ "

Sasuke kept himself neutral, even though a storm raged beneath his skin. "But you're _not_ happy anymore?"

Sakura didn't want to shake her head no, but she had no choice. She couldn't _lie_ to Sasuke, not at a time like this. "Not as happy as I _thought_ I was...I'm _worried_ , Sasuke. Seriously, I'm frightened about what might happen after this..."

"What do you mean?" Sasuke pondered. He kept his hand to himself, but he was seated close enough to Sakura that he could smell the scent of her tears in the air and knew that she was trying to keep them from being soaked into her hair whenever she shifted her head from one angle to the other.

"What if I made the wrong decision?" Sakura gulped, reaching her hand over to touch Sasuke's cheek slightly with the tips of two fingers. "What if I regret it for the rest of my life...? What if I really _was_ meant to be with you and I just ruined _everything_ by living in the moment and agreeing to marry Naruto?"

Sasuke's brow twitched once, but he didn't take Sakura's fingers from his cheek. He yearned for that kind of contact, really, so he had nothing to protest. "You mean to tell me that you're just toying with Naruto's emotions? You _married_ him on some frivolous, lonely _impulse_?" He scowled slightly, just enough to break the facade of neutrality.

Sakura felt herself being judged, but then she gave a quiet shake of her head. "N-no, it's not quite like that...I _do_ love him, Sasuke. I love Naruto _very_ much, and I think I'd be completely happy being married to him...if I hadn't ever seen _you_ again, that is." She bit her lower lip; she felt like a horrid person for even saying such a thing, but it was the _truth,_ and Sasuke was the only person she felt she could mention it to. He could keep a secret.

"What set this off, anyway?" Sasuke pondered, leaning back against the sloped roof, feeling the shingles shift slightly under his back as he moved around. "You didn't seem this uncertain back at the apartment..."

That was the question she feared most. She had to _admit_ to her pettiness. "I didn't feel anything like _this_ until...until I saw you with Hinata. It was small, at first. You came to the gate together, and I figured it was a coincidence, or maybe it was simple, like it could have been that you were the one telling her we had come home." She gripped her shirt tightly, squeezing and turning her fist until little threads began popping in the fabric. "But in the restaurant just now, I saw the way you looked at her...it wasn't just a _coincidence_ anymore." Sakura showed Sasuke her face, stained red with crying and lightly chafed by rubbing her cheeks on her sleeves to dry them. "I don't want to live my life feeling this kind of _jealousy_ every day, Sasuke...and I know you don't, either."

Sasuke didn't take the moment to disarm Sakura's concern like he thought he should have. Even though his gut reaction was to say that there was nothing between himself and Hinata, to assure Sakura that it was just a normal look he was giving her, he wasn't certain anymore. During every day of the two weeks prior, he had felt something like an itch under his fingernails when he thought about Hinata. A slight ache to see her, to hear her voice. It was middling at best. That day, though, just after Sakura and Naruto's return? Hinata had been the one to invite him home. She was the person who pulled him into the gate and _kept_ him there. A day hadn't passed yet, but Sasuke felt unusually certain that _nothing_ was going to cause him to leave the village again without intending to come back. Still, Sakura presented a fair point—they were both consumed by a sort of gnawing jealousy, however unfounded the pink-headed woman's might have been thus far. Sasuke shrugged his shoulders and asked the next logical question: "If neither of us wants to deal with all this jealousy, then what can we do about it?"

Sakura once more felt like a terrible person. "Y-you wanted to leave the village before, right?" She looked away from him, drawing little shapes along the tiles beside her with a guilty finger. "Maybe you _should_...for both our sakes."

Sasuke shut his eyes and pursed his lips, leaning his head back to breathe harshly in through his nose. He exhaled through his mouth and shook his head. "I _can't_ anymore, Sakura..."

She looked at him, dumbfounded. "What do you mean you _can't_? I thought that was what you _wanted_. I had to _beg_ you to stay for two weeks in the first place..."

"Things have changed," Sasuke muttered. "We're just going to have to deal with our jealousy as it comes. If that means we end up _avoiding_ each other, then maybe it's for the best." He stood up from his perch, checking his hip with his hand to ensure that his sheathe hadn't gone anywhere.

"Well..." Sakura blushed and began tentatively. "I don't want to _avoid_ you." For an infinitesimally _short_ while, she thought about suggesting an affair, but she squashed the devious notion before it could get any roots in her head. She had recently made wedding vows, and she absolutely was _not_ going to break them—not even to sate her subconscious yearning for Sasuke, the man who harbored the exact same feelings for _her_. It may have made perfect _sense_ for them both to give in and kiss under the stars then and there, but that wasn't how Mrs. Uzumaki wanted to live her life. "I'm sorry about all this, Sasuke. It's just my first night home, that's all—and seeing that you were still _here_ kind of knocked me off my feet. Now, I've said what I need to say, and..." she sniffled, then wiped her face with a handkerchief from the same pouch she had gotten her brush out of. "And I think we've been gone a little too long. Let's go back inside and tell them something easy, like that the toilets were clogged. You know...in _both_ bathrooms."

"No need to be so dishonest about it," Sasuke replied. "We don't have to go into detail, but if they ask, we can just say that we've been catching up..." He hopped down from the third floor to ground level, and re-entered the restaurant. Sakura stayed behind for a moment longer, contemplating what had just happened.

There was nothing that could have convinced her that the look Sasuke had shared with Hinata inside that restaurant was anything other than mutual admiration. Was it _romantic_ admiration? Sakura wasn't quite as _sure_ about that part, but she had deep suspicions. She breathed twice to steady herself, then gave her eyes another good wipe to make herself presentable.

With her brush and hankie tucked back into her pouch, she hopped onto the street below and made her return inside a full minute after Sasuke did.

* * *

 **I'm posting this chapter with my eyes half-closed from sleepiness, so if there are problems with the proof-reading, that's probably why. Aside from that potential, I hope you liked it! As always, thanks for all the support and good words I've been given. Let me know what you think!**


	21. Worth Something More

**Enjoy!**

* * *

To Sasuke's own surprise, he wasn't as grateful as he expected himself to have been that Sakura revealed her lingering, powerful attraction to him. He thought that it was what he wanted to hear, but upon the confession, his heart sank deep. It wasn't what he had dreamed. Had he deceived himself all along? He felt like he had jumped away from her too abruptly, rudely abandoning her to her loneliness on the roof, even though it had been _her_ idea to cut the conversation short in the first place. As he walked the long, enlightening, and reflective path back to the alcove secreted away in the back corner of the restaurant, he thought about exactly what everything that just happened actually meant. He dwelled momentarily upon Sakura's selfishness, but he forgave her on the spot—she wanted him gone from the village, and it was his _own_ fault. Through nobody's doing other than his own, Sasuke had given Sakura a village _without_ him, and she had grown used to it. Although she _was_ the one who wanted him to come back, and had initially forced his promise to stay, it was borderline unfair of him to be there and make her miserable. She had earned her place; he still felt like a newcomer, though at least he no longer viewed himself as just a guest. The shoe of jealousy and regret was on the other foot, so to speak—Sakura was the one feeling what Sasuke had been feeling, and the guilt lived stubbornly under the roots of the man's hair when he thought about what he was doing to her just by _existing_.

He hadn't told her on the roof because he didn't want to make her feel foolish, but he didn't feel the same way that _she_ thought he did anymore. There _was_ still an unfulfilled need, living in his inner mind and scratching against his skull, but it was tiny...the overall change had happened subtly—maybe because Sakura, like him, had left the village suddenly and offered a view into what life would be like without her. He had gotten quickly _accustomed_ to Konoha without Sakura, and even when she returned, she didn't have _quite_ the same influence over his thoughts. His love had fallen down to a dull ache, not a raging fire—and then it nearly vanished altogether. Almost every ounce of lingering anger, resentment, and regret had been burned off of him like wax from a new wick at the very moment Hinata's hand touched his knee during his strain. It was a massive sensation, the likes of which he hadn't felt since the moment he and Naruto crossed their chakra for the final time and destroyed one another's limbs. _That_ instant was a heap of clarity piled onto him like dirt, and when he had finally dug his way out of the pile to see the light again, he was a different man forevermore.

He was inside the restaurant and he found the door to the private room, but he stalled. Instead of opening it, he looked over his shoulder and waited for Sakura. If she didn't come quickly, he was going to go out and fetch her. She had been crying rather hard, and the Uchiha she had confessed her continuing love for had been able to see the guilt, the pain, and the _self-hatred_ that filled her. Seeing her in such a state was almost too much for him to bear, and so he was glad to separate himself from the situation, at her request, despite his concerns. Soon enough, and thankfully so, Sakura's bright hair and red top came into view in the doorframe. Sasuke smiled softly before entering the room without her; he was probably worrying for nothing. She was strong; that's why he respected her. She would catch up.

He opened up to see Naruto and Hinata smiling at one another and trading small-talk. "Yes, Hanabi's training has been going very well, just like mine!" Hinata chirped enthusiastically, with her hands clasped together on the table surface. She paused and looked with curious wonder at who had entered, and then smiled when she saw his face. There was something else in her expression, though something withheld. Something she wanted to _say,_ but for some reason hadn't. She hadn't been aware of Sasuke's return because her eyes were inactive. She felt no need to exert such extensive vision while both Naruto and Sasuke were so close by; surely the restaurant was the safest place in the village that night. Then again, she had _thought_ Hanabi would be safe with Naruto back in the village, too. True safety seemed to be a myth, but it was one that she allowed herself to believe in.

Naruto peered up at Sasuke as the latter entered. The blonde-haired, surprisingly-perceptive guy was looking somber, as if he could read his old friend like a tea leaf. "Is she gonna be okay, Sasuke?"

Sasuke was taken by slight surprise by the question, though he didn't take long to realize that his counterpart was a great deal more perceptive than he used to be. Years could change a person in countless ways. He opened his mouth to answer, but he hesitated. He almost said _yes,_ but it would have been a lie and Naruto probably would have known it. In exchange for everything that the once-hated jinchuriki had done to help Sasuke, he felt as if honesty was owed: "I don't really know, Naruto," he settled on saying. And it was the truth.

Naruto followed up: "And what about you, Sasuke? Will _you_ be alright?" His blue eyes, once so dopey and clueless, seemed to pierce the mind and thoughts and soul all at once, and do so effortlessly. Naruto looked so comfortable in his chair, with an arm draped over its back and his shoulders slanted lazily downward. His abdomen was bent a bit as he slouched, probably keeping the position he settled on after a lot of squirming over how long the food was taking. Even as innocent as his stance made him seem, not a single human being could have looked into Naruto's eyes and felt anything other than a deep, almost prophetic _understanding._ It was actually unnerving for the standing Uchiha, and he quickly made for his chair.

"I'll be _fine_ ," he muttered, wishing the food had already arrived, or at least wishing that his menu was still on the table. Anything to busy his hand and keep his eyes suitably distracted. The clear glass of water could only work for so long, though he seized it and guzzled it to hide his shaking nerves. Hinata, ever-watchful of her new training master's condition, seemed concerned. She wasn't able to read Sasuke, not like Naruto could, but she noticed a slight change. It didn't seem like a _negative_ one, though—he almost seemed like he had come to an understanding within himself. Naruto probably saw it, too. That insightful way of viewing people was why Naruto was the only one who could have saved the world three years prior. He _understood_. He _cared._ He did what it took to make sure that _everybody_ came out ahead of where they started. His return to the village was met with such tremendous fanfare _precisely_ because of how good he made everybody around him feel. Hinata envied him for being so masterful with people while she, herself, had always struggled to make meaningful connections. Too shy, too submissive, too easy to ignore or overlook.

When Sakura returned a short few moments after Sasuke, she seemed chipper and dismissive of her own absence. "Hey, guys. You seem quiet." Her mouth turned to a ponderous slant, and she bit the corner of her thumb idly. "Paralyzed by hunger, love?" She quipped, laughing effortlessly as she joined Naruto's side and pecked a kiss onto his cheek. Everything seemed so _normal,_ if one were to only look at _her._ But Sasuke and Hinata could both see the thoughtfulness in Naruto's crystal gaze; he had sensed the change long before she had even entered the room. Sakura felt _guilty._ It wasn't tough for him to guess why.

The tension in the small chamber was mercifully eased by the timely arrival of Choji, who bombastically shoved the door open with a serving tray and four loaded platters balanced atop one hand. "Sorry about the wait, had to get the ramen just right! Nothing but the best is ever gonna go into a guest's mouth here, on my honor and the honor of our entire clan!" He gave a salute, a fist over his chest. Then he set the serving tray down and divvied out the food laid in plates or bowls upon it. The aromas were divine as to be expected, and the soup ordered by Sakura had the strongest allure of all with its patented (and secretive) mix of herbs and spices.

"Everything looks wonderful," Hinata uttered to break the uncomfortable silence still living at her table, though her voice was barely above a whisper. "Thanks very much," she added with a gentle bow of her head when her plain, boring ribs were set before her. Sasuke nodded to accept his unflavored rice, Sakura gave a word of thanks and Naruto barely had _time_ to thank anyone before he began to dig in.

Hinata plucked at her lean, bare strips of meat with a chopstick. The pieces were a light beige, cooked to perfection and remarkably tender despite being so barren on the surface. She felt the strangeness at the table even after Choji bowed out and shut the door again. She felt thoroughly left behind, as if she was the only one who didn't know about some big secret. The quiet was making her frantic. "I-is anybody going to say what's the matter?"

Naruto looked at her and gave a sort of nervous smile, then talked with his mouth full to try to cover things up a bit. "Oh, uh...we're all just busy eating, y'know?" He gave a facial twitch that was supposed to mean 'don't worry, I've got it under control,' but it ultimately seemed more like an untamed spasm than anything. Adept in some ways, crippled in others. That was Naruto Uzumaki.

Next, Hinata looked to Sasuke. He was unreadable, as always, and then she saw that Sakura was pretty happy-looking. And why shouldn't she have been? She was married to, arguably, the most cherished member of the village and was a young, gorgeous woman with tons of strength and admirable character traits of her own. She should have felt like she was on top of the world. Hinata, conversely, was still shaky after her talk with Naruto, and she couldn't even try to hide it. She felt suddenly shunted out of place, as if she had been _one_ person right before sitting down, but was then replaced by somebody else with the exact same body and mind, but for one key difference—she had _forced_ herself to feel okay while looking at Naruto's wedding ring. She wanted to press her case more completely, to at least make him feel a _little_ bad about choosing Sakura over her, but he raised a good enough point to get her to back down—Hinata was named as one of his greatest influences. Still, the list was a long one. She was just one of a dozen or more names he could rattle off from the top of his head. If one were to figure a comprehensive account of all the people Naruto owed his life and decisions to, they could probably fill at least a _small_ novel. Maybe even a big one. He was everybody's hero, but they were all _his_ heroes, first. He was just paying back what he felt like he owed.

"How's your soup, Sakura?" Sasuke inquired between modest bites out of his steaming bowl of rice. Small talk. Still not his strong suit, but it was all he had to go on. For Hinata's sake, he tried to act as if nothing was wrong.

"It might be the best I've ever _had,"_ Mrs. Uzumaki replied, taking a spoonful into her mouth and politely draining it without so much as the slightest slurp. She savored it on her tongue before swallowing.

Naruto chimed in, following Sasuke's lead and focusing on the one subject that was _sure_ to be totally harmless: the food. "What about your ribs, Hinata? You should at least put some pepper or something on them, right?"

Hinata shook her head. "No...I want them exactly like this..." she glanced over at Sasuke, and that was when Naruto actually made the observation. He blinked at her, then looked at the ribs. Then to Sasuke.

"Hey, so...you two are training together, yeah?" Naruto suggested, recalling one of them saying something to that effect earlier on.

Sasuke answered while Hinata shied away from the tone he used. "Yes, that's right—and she's been growing stronger every day." He swallowed down a bland heap of sticky grains but didn't seem bothered by the lack of taste. "She'll be ready for the tournament when the time comes."

Sakura's attention was snared. "Oh, that's right...I guess she's fighting, too. Which tier did she enter?"

Hinata spoke for herself: "I shouldn't say...not yet." She was still worried about her father finding out too soon. As Kakashi had said, Hiashi might have enough clout to force a change in the roster at any point up until the other village heads had seen and approved of it. Hiashi's pull in Konoha was enormous, though outsiders weren't as willing to bow to his legacy. There were still a few days left before the roster was approved, at very least, so Hinata kept the sneaky entry to herself. She didn't want to lie, exactly. Ambiguity seemed like the best choice.

Pink hair swished to the side when Sakura tilted her head. "Oh? Well, okay then...I'm in the General pool now, and I've kind of been wondering about what sort of opponents I'll be facing...If it were just Konoha, I'd have a good idea of it, but _all_ the villages are involved. I'm actually worried I won't do that well against some of their strongest." She gave a smile toward Naruto. "I don't want to taint my new family name by getting beaten out there, after all."

Naruto laughed and slung his arm around Sakura's shoulder, spilling some of the soup from her spoon and onto her shirt with the abrupt movement. She gasped and looked down in total dismay, and Naruto talked onward anyway. "You'll do great! No wife of mine is gonna be anything less than _amazing_ out there!" He noticed the slight spill after a moment of silence, then clenched his teeth and pulled his lips back in fright. "Oh, uh...sorry, Sakura."

Sakura made a fist under the table and it sent tremors up her arm. Although she _wanted_ to pound her husband's skull, she released her fingers from their squeeze and then laid them on the table one at a time, calming herself down. "It's okay...I'm wearing red anyhow, so there's no harm done." She sighed and took her hand up to her forehead, wiping at nothing just to occupy herself.

Naruto _definitely_ knew something was wrong then, even if he hadn't noticed before. She _never_ would have let something like that go if she were acting like herself. When it came to figuring out Sakura, it was no use reading her expressions—Naruto had talked to Sai about her, once, and the ex-Root member had gone into detail about just why Sakura was so difficult to read on facial cues alone. She had gotten remarkably good at faking things: Smiles, laughter, tears, interest, damn near _everything,_ as a result of her constant need to put on a brave face during Sasuke's perpetual absence. Her expressions were pretty much a wash, but Naruto knew her well enough to pick up on her other cues—some small, like the way she entered the room on her left foot instead of the right, and then some huge, like her unsettlingly calm response to the spill onto her shirt. The stain wasn't intentional—he wasn't _testing_ her or anything—but it was definitely a convenient turn as a way of gaining some insight. "Still, sorry about that," Naruto said just a second after earning forgiveness. He was already holding napkins to help wipe the excess liquid away.

"I'll live," Sakura added, then gave Naruto a pat on the back as he worked on cleaning up as best he could. She looked over at Sasuke, and she got a blank stare in return again. Something wasn't right about the way he looked at her. She had made a mistake, alright, but it wasn't the one she thought it was. "Anyway...I hope I do well. Sasuke, what convinced _you_ to enter the fight? I didn't think you'd want to be involved in something like this after all the time you've spent away. Are you trying to make a grand statement to the village?"

Sasuke smirked, leaning back in his chair. His rice, barely touched, was left to cool and become wasted. He had his fill of it, seemingly. "Kakashi all but begged me to enter. To his credit, he raised a few strong points—for starters, this contest is a good way, like you said, of bringing myself back into the village in a big way. But it's also for the sake of my clan's name. I'm all that's left, and the world doesn't know anything about the Uchiha name that isn't associated with war. I'd like to show them what I am _now."_

"Plus he can't wait to fight _me_ again, huh?" Naruto belted from his place near Sakura's chest, leaned over and putting the finishing touches on his wipe job. "We'll finally know once and for all who's the _best."_

Sakura scoffed. "Hardly," she sneered. "With all the restrictions in place, I wouldn't call it a proper rematch."

Naruto pounded his fist into an open palm. "That's exactly what makes it so _exciting,_ though! It'll be like the old days, just me and him using our _own_ strength! No borrowing from Kurama, or from natural energy..."

Sakura went quiet for a moment. Sure, a lot of Naruto's banned techniques were the result of 'borrowing,' but Sasuke's entire list of forbidden skills belonged completely to his own body. Honestly, if Sasuke weren't on _their_ side, the fact that so much power existed in a single person as nothing but his own strength would have given her nightmares. And for a while, the thoughts actually _had_ given her trouble sleeping. Those were some of the nights when Naruto needed to comfort her the most. While Sasuke was away, Sakura had imagined all sorts of terrible things—what if he did something cruel again? What if he decided to seek revenge against Konoha after all? She had been awoken by nightmares as recently as eight months prior, though moving in with Naruto had caused them to fade away over time. Waking up next to him made her feel safe—he was _always_ there, with his arm laying heavily on her stomach, or chest, or hip. His breath constantly tickled her neck when they slept, and she loved it. The guilt came back even harder as she remembered the roof outside, with a fresh dent in its tiling; no amount of small talk was enough to vanquish the feeling of regret.

"I love you, Naruto," Sakura whispered as if to apologize to him, though it could easily have been confused with a random declaration like married couples tended to give. Naruto wordlessly put both of his arms around her, holding her secure and tucking her face against his chest and neck; his hand rubbed her back to soothe her. Their chairs were pulled completely together. Sakura's new husband knew _enough,_ without having the finer details—she had done something she regretted. He also knew, perhaps even better than she did, that it wasn't really their marriage that she was regretting at all. "I _really_ love you..."

While the quiet moment between the spouses was sweet and soft, Hinata and Sasuke were left at the table trying to pretend that they weren't feeling marginalized by it. They looked at one another and started whispering, forming their own little faction of two to avoid being outnumbered. Hinata took the lead as she leaned toward Sasuke's ear. "Hanabi made it home safely; I made sure of it." Of course, she couldn't mention the incident without acknowledging the role he played in resolving it: "Thanks for your help, earlier."

Sasuke nodded, but his voice was kept even lower than hers. "Don't worry about thanking me. Worry about what the attack means...I don't know for sure what's happening, but I want you toget home safely tonight. I'll come with you if you want me to."

Hinata shook her head, though she sincerely wanted to let Sasuke take her home. Her family was too sensitive, too intrusive into her business—and they were especially problematic with their visual strength. Even if Sasuke only walked her halfway there, she might still have been caught with him by some stray line of sight. Truthfully, she might have _already_ been caught, even as she sat quietly in a restaurant behind two closed doors and in the view of no windows. The Byakugan, she realized, was a _nightmare_ for people who had something to hide. She never thought about that before, though, because she had never really _needed_ to hide anything important. "I'll be okay, Sasuke, I promise...but thank you. Thank you _so_ _much..."_ Maybe it was the affection across the table, or maybe it was just the natural curve of things; in either case, she felt pulled to him. "For everything," she continued, even more softly than a whisper. "For being here tonight, for training me...for coming _home_..."

Sasuke, too, felt that exact impulse. It drew him in. He felt just like he had felt earlier in the day, during the embrace that followed the mutual assurance that neither of them were alone so long as they stood together. They had each other, whatever _that_ meant; they were still deciding on the specifics, but the moment again spoke for itself. The gravity was there like an old friend tugging between their faces. So close, already, after the whispering back and forth. Their eyes met, their hands touched one another at the fingertips under the table, and Sasuke's breath stopped flowing under the anticipation. He was seized with the _urge_ again, familiar and inescapable; the first time it had been an impulse, something he hadn't expected but could easily brush off as being a momentary lapse in judgement. Now, with it happening a _second_ time in the same day, he could no longer shove it away and pretend that there was no significance. Even Sakura had previously noticed something in the way the pair had looked at one another, despite Sasuke's efforts to keep himself guarded.

Hinata leaned forth in her chair, the wood creaking softly along the legs beneath her. She blushed and timidly turned her eyes to Naruto and Sakura across the table. They were still distracted by one another, despite the sound of her movement. Hinata gulped and felt the rising heat of her skin; her hands were turning pink. Her heart was thumping; she heard it loud and clear and even _felt_ it pushing against her ribs. Her throat was dry and her scalp tingled. She was embarrassed, but also thrilled by the attention she was being given by Sasuke. Would it be okay if she stole just a _little_ kiss? Would he be mad, even despite the way he looked at her? She thought Sasuke might have wanted it to happen, and she knew _she_ wanted it, too...and the silence in the room was all but whispering into her ear: _Do it. It doesn't matter if they see you; do it._ She tucked a few stray hairs behind her ear, getting them out of the way. She made it as clear as she could that she wanted to at least _try_ it, no matter the consequences.

As if the very same voice was in Sasuke's mind as well, his hand further touched Hinata's and clasped it from around the back of it. He said nothing; he _thought_ nothing. He was going to _do it_ , and any consequences could be dealt with later. His emotions were still smoldering and befuddled from the shock of realizing that he was no longer jealous about Sakura _—she_ wasn't the thing consuming him anymore. The violet in his mind, the girl in the chair beside him. The girl whose face was so close that he could hardly see her in full focus. _That_ was the image that clouded his every waking thought. It was Hinata Hyuuga, the quiet girl from the back row, the unassuming young woman who had big dreams but almost never spoke of them. She was both enigmatic and familiar. Her lips looked soft and they were puckering slightly. She was inviting him close; she seemed ready to bridge the gap by herself if he didn't go the rest of the way. To answer some underlying question, to address some unspoken command, he _had to know_ what it would be like. In that breathless minute, Sasuke wanted, more than _anything_ , to feel Hinata's mouth on his. And so he went for it.

And _just_ before their lips touched, _just_ before the the fantasy could be turned into reality, Hinata yelped and backed away with her flesh toned like Sakura's tomato-stained shirt, facing forward over the table with urgency and yanking her hand from Sasuke's to fold both of her palms into her lap. A half-second later, the door to the room was shoved wide open and Choji stepped in with a heavy laugh. "Anybody need refills on drinks!?" He paused to look around, then: "Ahh, I see you guys made yourselves at home!" He crossed his arms over his chest and guffawed, puffy cheeks and squeezed-shut eyes making him seem all the more friendly. For a split second, Sasuke wondered if they had been seen, but then he recalled the much more _famous_ couple across from them. "I'm glad!" The head chef clarified, then Naruto and Sakura looked up at him, but _they_ didn't pull apart. It was okay for _them_ to be seen _—_ they were newlyweds; it was expected of them to be affectionate.

Sasuke felt all of his veins harden against his skin as he was forced to abandon his proximity to Hinata and pretend that nothing had happened. He figured that she had heard or seen or _sensed_ Choji coming, and she was still far too self-conscious to let herself be seen with a guy like _Sasuke,_ let alone be seen like _that_ with him. The interrupted Uchiha's teeth crisply ground together behind closed lips and his hand was clenched tight; the individual knuckles were cracking rhythmically as he tried to work off his ample stress without howling out loud. He felt as if he had never been so _extremely_ close to something that he undeniably _needed,_ only to have it completely denied to him. Well, without it somehow being Naruto's fault, that is. Choji was a new one to blame. Sasuke looked over at the girl, the one who was driving him absolutely insane, and he took a breath for the first time in almost a minute. She was looking at him, too, with the most sincerely apologetic look imaginable.

Sasuke then understood why Sakura was so eager to go on her honeymoon—interruptions were _ridiculous_ in that village. First Hanabi, then Choji—who was going to be next, he wondered? Or would there _be_ a third time? No matter how right it felt to be so close to her, there was always the fear that the possibility would completely evaporate. So many forces seemed to be working against them both—Hinata's family, the training couple's own conflicted feelings, interruptions, some rising criminal element, and so much else. How could anything _good_ survive in a world full of chaos and strife that had fooled itself into thinking that it was peaceful?

Choji and Naruto started talking to each other about random things—the tournament, the restaurant, how good the ramen tasted, the weather, the wedding; ultimately it was nothing worth paying attention to. Somehow, miraculously, it seemed as if Naruto and Sakura hadn't picked up on the almost-kiss that had fizzled out, or they were at least pretending it were so. That was fine, too—as long as they weren't looking Sasuke's way, everything was _fine..._ even though he wanted to slam Choji's face into the curb outside as punishment for his timing.

Hinata was trembling at Sasuke's side, and he could see it clearly. His eyes whirled slightly; the black discs became the multi-facted red-and-black pattern that defined his clan. If he couldn't kiss her, he at least wanted to _see_ her while she struggled with her own lack of fulfillment. The symphony of her shivering body was a beautiful thing on its own; the want and disappointment still meshed together seamlessly as her feelings transitioned and she tried to settle down. Her pinkies moved the most of all while her hands locked together. She was using the tiny digits to caress the backs of her wrists on each side. Just a little thing that Sasuke noticed about her, one of the many insignificant details that could be so easily missed without the proper attention. She was looking into her lap, and her hair was swaying under the motion of the fan overhead. The color of her chakra was unique in its own way; blue, like most, but with the tiniest splash of violet undertone. Or perhaps that was just Sasuke's imagination playing tricks on him. The eyes could only see what the brain was willing to perceive; even the Sharingan could be tricked by its user's own thoughts.

He turned away from her just as the muscles in her neck began to twitch like she planned to look up at him. He didn't want to be caught staring so rudely at her. His eyes powered down after his 'mission' was accomplished—he was driven by something that Ino had said, actually. _We want somebody who knows everything there is to know._ She emphasized an attention to detail, and there was nothing more suited to observing details than Sasuke Uchiha's eyes. He decided that he wanted to know everything about Hinata—not to impress her, but to sate his own curiosity. There was no rational explanation for how strong his attraction to her was. She was beautiful, but so were many other women who had thrown themselves at him in the past. She was quiet, which should have kept her in the background, yet somehow her presence always popped out to him. There had to be some explanation, some rational thought that could reconcile the bizarre happenings since Sasuke's return. The violets in his dreams, the constant run-ins with that _one_ girl in a village completely _filled_ with people. He wanted to ask her so many, _many_ things, to figure her out from top to bottom—but it wasn't the time for that. Not with Naruto and Sakura so close by. His questions could wait until tomorrow's training, he decided.

Hinata had her own questions to ask Sasuke, especially in the wake of Naruto's slipped tongue. She was silent while Choji had his conversation with Naruto, and eventually Sakura too. After a while, it wrapped up; nobody actually needed refills, it was decided. The interruption was unnecessary. Hinata lamented the way things had been going—just as some ethereal force pulled her toward Sasuke, some other invisible-yet-opposite push seemed to set up a variety of obstacles that kept them at arm's length as much as possible. She hoped to herself that the frustrating circumstances hadn't been turning Sasuke away. She wanted to arrange a time where they could find total privacy; to have a conversation without the worry of interruptions. Unfortunately, with her family and friends on constant alert, she realized that it wouldn't be possible within the village; they would have to leave, which would be suspicious in itself. Unless Sasuke knew of a tranquil place other than his family's ruined district—Hanabi had proven that not even _'cursed'_ ground was safe from snooping.

When Choji left and closed the door again, Sasuke stood up and opened it just a sliver. He heard something by the entrance—something unusual. It was a conversation at the front desk, but not a person coming to ask for a table or make a later reservation. Through the din of conversation, Sasuke could pick up little bits and pieces. Naruto called up to him: "Sasuke, what's up? Did you need more water or something?"

Sasuke made a shushing sound over his shoulder, his eyes narrowing. From the angle of the cracked-open door, he couldn't quite see what was happening in the foyer. He picked up just enough of the quietly-muttered keywords: something about deadlines, something about 'protection.' Whatever it was, the greeter wasn't having it; the tone was a bit harsh. By the time Sasuke stepped out to get a better view, whomever the greeter by the door had been talking to was gone. The large door was still swinging closed behind the one who had left. Sasuke started to head out in pursuit, but he was stopped by a concerned voice behind him.

"Where are you going, Sasuke?" It was Hinata. She looked and sounded worried.

After realizing that he didn't want to let Hinata out of his sight, and recalling that he still had a very _specific_ matter he wanted to discuss with her before the night was done, Sasuke sighed and stepped back in. He looked to Naruto. "This may sound strange, but could you tap into the Kyuubi's chakra for a moment, Naruto?

Naruto scratched the side of his head. "His name's Kurama—but what're you on about?"

"Just a sinking feeling...I need to know if you can sense it, too. That beast's chakra allows you to sense evil intentions, right?" Sasuke thought he had heard about something to that effect, but he hadn't ever been certain. Like many things, it could have just been a myth.

Naruto blinked, then gently took his arms off of Sakura. "Yeah, that's right..." he huskily confirmed, looking perplexed. Even so, he humored the request. Sakura leaned away from him when the shimmering golden layer of chakra began to funnel outward from Naruto's system. It encapsulated his clothes and his face, extending all the way from his sandaled toes to the tips of his hair with a fiery flourish. He became a shining beacon that dimmed the light fixtures overhead, and he shut his eyes to concentrate. His brows furrowed; it had been a little while since he had taken that form, and the shift in attitudes around him seemed somewhat jarring. He narrated his discovery: "I'm getting a lot more than what I'm used to..."

Sasuke returned to the table, his one hand firmly placed upon the wood. "Anything around the restaurant? I thought I heard something suspicious, but I'm not sure about it yet."

Naruto nodded, but seemed indecisive. "Yeah, but...it's not just one person. The village has a lot of people, and everybody's got _some_ kind of darkness in 'em, y'know? It's easy to sense the biggest threats on a battlefield, but...the negative emotions in a place as crowded as the Leaf feel more like one big layer of fog. Anyway, I'm not picking up anything especially _powerful."_ He relaxed his chakra, the flowing yellowish layer dissipating from around his body and allowing his clothes to return to normal. "Maybe you should tell Kakashi-sensei about what you heard."

Sasuke made a tsk. "I've got a feeling that he already knows..." Looking at his unfinished bowl of rice, he then turned to face the door instead. "Thanks for dinner, Naruto, but I should really be going. Good to see you again, too, Sakura," he added at the end. She frowned at him slightly; he didn't mean to be sarcastic, but maybe she thought he sounded that way. Finally, with a silent glance toward Hinata, Sasuke tipped his head toward the door. Before she could ask him exactly what he meant, he was out in the main part of the restaurant and had vanished behind a layer of people being guided to tables. Closing time wasn't for another couple of hours, so business was still bustling.

Hinata blinked, then looked at Naruto and Sakura. Sakura pounced on the lone sheep, leaning over the table with intensely curious eyes: "So...what do you think of Sasuke? Is he a good trainer?"

"Y-yes, he's _very_ good," she said without thinking too hard. It was merely the answer that came to her head naturally. "He seems to really know what he's doing."

Sakura nodded. "How has he treated you? I know he can be pretty _intense,_ but he's not a bad guy..."

Hinata smiled softly, her cheeks colored yet again. "N-no, I know that; he's not a bad guy at all...he has actually been _really_ good to me."

Sakura was blushing, too, at the thought. "He has, huh? How do you mean...?" She was getting personal; maybe a little bit too curious. Naruto flexed his mouth and lifted one eyebrow to look at her inquisitively.

The Hyuuga felt like she was on the spot, but she answered anyway because she didn't want to disappoint. "Well, he didn't think twice about taking me as a student, and he's been really attentive to what I need. He's given me lots of encouragement, and, well...he makes me feel kind _of...happy,_ I guess."

Sakura's mouth hung open slightly and she swallowed a dry lump in her throat with a roll of her tongue. "That's...good to hear," she said after a second. She looked at Naruto, and he looked back at her somewhat somberly. The extent of her selfish declaration on the roof really hit her, then—she wasn't just hurting Naruto. She was potentially hurting _Hinata,_ too. While her jealousy was making her see red, she hadn't been paying attention to any of the consequences. "It's getting late, I think..." Sakura said while brushing off the skirt laying over her pants, freeing it of any stray specks that might have fallen upon her due to the fan's movement of the air overhead—or from the destruction of roof tiles. "Maybe we should all head home."

Hinata nodded, squeezing the collar of her shirt and turning on her Byakugan for a brief moment. She looked outside and she saw what she wanted to see. "Y-you're right. And please, don't worry about paying for anything. I'll speak to the man at the front desk and have it charged to the family account..."

Naruto grinned. "Whoa, really? That'd be _awesome!_ Thanks, Hinata!"

"You shouldn't do that; we can afford it," Sakura assured, getting a small wallet out of her hip-mounted pack and fishing for a few bills. As if he could smell the money, Choji returned and poked his head into the door.

"You guys headed out? I just saw Sasuke," the future Akimichi Clan head commented, then saw Sakura searching for the right amount of change. The receipt for their orders had been tucked under her bowl, as if she was trying to be _sure_ that nobody else knew how much to pay. She insisted on making it her treat. "What're you doing, eh, Sakura? You guys are all paid for."

Naruto grumbled. "Hey now, don't go givin' us free food just because we're famous, okay?"

Choji laughed, rubbing his elbow in good humor. "Actually, it's nothing like that—see, Sasuke already paid for this table on his way out. Added a really nice _tip,_ too."

Sakura stuttered a little. "He...p-paid for the meal...? But I thought he..." She brought her hand to her mouth, nipping the knuckle in the middle of her pointer finger. "Well, alright then...thanks for a beautiful experience, Choji. We'll come again soon."

"Looking forward to it!" The brown-headed, well-fed fellow bellowed from the doorway. "Have a nice night, everybody; we'll take care of cleaning off the table, so don't you worry. Just have a fantastic night, you hear?"

Naruto nodded. "You bet, Choji! Thanks again!" He sprang up from his chair and vaulted smoothly over the table without disturbing the dishes. He landed and reached his hand out and started shaking Choji's grip pretty assertively. "You're one of the best chefs I've ever met!"

Choji blinked, then scowled in an exaggerated way. "Oh yeah? _One of_? Who's better than me?" He snorted defensively, and Naruto suddenly felt like he made a misstep.

"I uh, didn't _mean_...uh...Sakura, help me out, would ya?" He whispered behind his hand. His wife covered her mouth and snickered, then shrugged.

"You got yourself into it, so you have to get yourself _out,"_ she remarked with a wink. Somewhere in the middle of that confusion, Hinata had slipped out without being noticed.

Sasuke was perched high atop the same building he had just left. His hand was cautiously on the hilt of his sword, and his eyes were fully shining with their mismatched glory. Purplish-gray on the left, with black rings and commas lining up in concentric circles. The other eye, red and glowing, was a bit more recognizable to the layman. The restaurant was one of the tallest buildings in the area, so he was likely not noticed where he stood despite the softly lit power in his sockets. A few curved, smooth metal pipes stuck out of the roof for ventilation; some of them ran all the way up from the kitchen far below, and the scent of cooking meats and stews made up a nice distraction from the still darkness of the night. Some of the surrounding structures had lights on in a window or two, but many people were already in bed.

Hinata climbed to Sasuke's height with a few graceful steps, taking big leaps of scant weight to bring herself up soundlessly, though Sasuke knew she had arrived before she even hit the stiff concrete behind him. "I think we should talk, Hinata...about earlier," he said without facing her.

She gulped once her feet were on stable flooring. She knew exactly what he meant. She might've been happier if they had both pretended that nothing happened, just like before. "Do we really have to talk about it?" She took a slight step backward. She had come up to see him because she noticed him lurking above with her Byakugan, but she was hoping for something else. She didn't know _what,_ but she was suddenly very nervous.

"I think we should _acknowledge_ it, at least," Sasuke said in response. "How do you feel about me?"

The girl's dark hair was almost invisible in the night, leaving just a softly-lit pale face with equally pale eyes flitting in different directions; by force of habit, she was avoiding eye contact despite the fact that Sasuke was still facing away from her. "I-I don't know, Sasuke...I like to be around you, but that's all I can say, really...It's all so confusing right now."

Sasuke nodded, but then he exhaled with a sensation of being lost. Had be been asked an identical question, his answer would have been the same as hers. "If you actually like to be around me, then let me walk you home, Hinata. I don't trust the streets tonight."

"Because of what happened to my sister?" A whisper in the dark was all she was, as long as he refused to face her directly.

"No, not entirely...it's partially because of what I realized about you." He turned, then, to square his shoulders in her direction. He took a step, one long stride of steady legs that put him close to her. She didn't move back, but she shrunk around the neck and shoulders and held her arms vertical along her chest.

"R-realized? What is it?" Hinata sucked air in through her nose, gasping without letting her voice play it out.

A warm breeze blew over the high roof, and Sasuke's cloak whipped around on his left side, unhindered by a limb. He spoke with the wind, and the words carried themselves into Hinata's ear with tender purpose. "You're afraid to speak against people. You don't want to disappoint them or make them angry, isn't that right?"

Hinata blinked, and her fingers curled self-consciously beneath the neckline of her shirt. "But I'm entering the General Tier, like you said I should...I'm going against my father's wishes."

Sasuke nodded. "And I'm proud of you for that...but that's only half of it. It's dangerous for a person who might _hesitate_ out there...And how do you expect to prevail in a tournament full of determined fighters and hardened killers if you can't even tell Naruto what's really on your mind?"

Hinata froze for a second. "W-what?"

The taller one of the dark-headed pair sighed and brought his hand up to rest atop Hinata's head; his fingers fell through the silky blue of her hair and he rolled a few strands between his thumb and forefinger. She leaned toward it, cherishing any touch he gave her. He spoke with a soothing tone, his eyes brightly examining her and appreciating the blissful expression he had brought onto her face. "I don't know exactly what you said to him, but I know that you wish you had said _more..._ When I walked in, you were smiling and laughing, but I could see it plain in your eyes, Hinata. I saw regret—regret that came from holding something back."

She felt _caught,_ but at the same time she was a little flattered that Sasuke could read her expression so well. She fessed up: "I...wanted to be mad at him. I wanted to _scream_ at him. I felt neglected; ignored...but then he smiled at me and told me that he thought good things about me. It made me feel kind of _special_ again; it was a good enough feeling to make me forget about what I wanted to say...but you're right, Sasuke. There's more I _need_ to say, but...I don't want to hurt him..."

Sasuke sighed and made a tsk with his tongue. "He's a tough guy. I spent a lot of time trying to get him to back off, but it was no use. Trust me: Nothing you say is going to knock him down for long...and he deals best in _hard_ truths. Don't let him think that everything is okay if it's _not_. You're too used to _appeasing_ people, Hinata—it's time for another lesson in breaking your own mold."

The girl blinked. "Another lesson...? But it's late; I need to get home..."

"This one is _very_ _important._ You can't let Naruto go home tonight and think that he did everything right by you. If you disagree with him, if there's even _one_ thing still bothering you, let him know it..." Sasuke took his hand down from Hinata's hair, and it dangled at his side. His expression was something of a smirk. "So tonight, if you won't let _me_ walk you home, then make _him_ do it. And if you get the urge, at any point, to give him a piece of your mind...then do it. Don't let him brush you under the rug, Hinata. You're worth more than a few carefully-chosen words at a dinner table."

The accuracy of Sasuke's guess was almost alarming—had he somehow been able to hear their short conversation? "I don't know if I _can_ say what I want to say..." She poked her pointer fingers together. "Are you sure he'll forgive me for it?"

Sasuke huffed, seeming just a little bit amused. "It's that bad, is it?"

Hinata nodded. "There's one thing in particular that's really hurting me, but...I didn't want to bring it up, because it scares me how me might react..."

"Then that's why it needs to be said...it's _hurting_ you, Hinata, and if Naruto never hears it, then he'll never know your pain...share it with him. Be _forceful._ Even if you have to do it right in front of Sakura, in front of half the _village_ , it still needs to be done—for all our sakes, but especially yours. You're second to no one, Hinata. Remember that." Sasuke stopped talking, and he held a finger up to his lips to urge quiet. He whispered and ducked down, creeping toward the ledge of the roof and looking down over the side. "They're coming out...must've gotten caught up talking to somebody." He gave Hinata's upper back a pat, almost like a push, to urge her onward. "Go down there and speak your mind, no matter how bad it is."

Hinata blushed as his hand pushed against her. He was immensely strong, but his fingers were still so gentle against her spine and shoulder blade. "You won't come with me...?"

Sasuke shook his head. "No—this one is on you, Hinata. It's your second important lesson: Don't let anybody make you feel small. Your thoughts _matter._ Make them _known."_

"I have one question, first," Hinata said while peering at her encouraging tutor.

"Don't take too long—they're going to be gone before you know it." Sasuke tried to keep her focused on the matter at hand, but she wouldn't turn away from him without an answer. "Alright...what's the question?"

"Why did you pay for the meal?" she asked, an innocent but worthy question.

"That's easy," Sasuke replied. "I told you that I'd be the one to pay the next time we went out together. I kept my promise, so the _next_ one is yours to handle." He narrowed his eyes. "But that's enough chatter; it's now or never...get down there. They're already walking away."

Hinata smiled wide at Sasuke's simple answer. Recalling those two simple words— _next time_ —had made her feel a little better. Even if she did end up damaging her relationship with Naruto by speaking her mind, she could always look forward to _next time_ with Sasuke. "Alright...I'll try." She spent one last moment pointing a lingering, hopeful gaze toward Sasuke. Then she vaulted over the waist-high wall that served to protect visitors from falling off the roof. She traveled like a feather in the wind, gliding from one foothold to the next as she descended from the sloped perch.

"Good luck, Hinata," Sasuke wished into the night as his intriguing student dropped to street level below, jogging quickly to catch up with Naruto and Sakura. Even from such a height, Sasuke could see that there was determination and invigoration in each one of her steps.

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 **Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think. I take any and all feedback seriously! For the record, I actually _really_ appreciate all the mixed reactions I got regarding the previous chapter (particularly those revolving around Sakura). There's nothing like a little disagreement in the reviews to let me know that people are invested in the story, don't you know? Haha, I've seriously been having a blast reading all the feedback recently. Thanks again to all of you for being so interested, and for taking the time to let me know your thoughts. There's much more to come, so look forward to it!**


	22. The End of a Long Day

**Enjoy!**

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Hinata didn't really know what she was planning on doing as she let her feet clop across the stone road. She could see Naruto and Sakura's backs, their arms laced around one another like a single rope anchoring two ships as they each bobbed along atop the sea. They walked in unison and whenever one got too far from the other, a quick course correction brought them back together gently. There were other people wandering, but Hinata didn't pay attention to them—she could only see the swirling symbol of the Uzumaki Clan on the back of Naruto and Sakura's shirts, an undeniable statement of their unity that she hadn't seen before. The twisting red spiral seemed to infinitely shrink inward, reminding the heartbroken Hyuuga of her own insecurity.

She had convinced herself that her opinions were a burden upon others; she taught herself from a young age to consider the thoughts of others above all else. She was generous, kind, and forgiving—she saw the good in everyone, and she never raised her voice. She was capable of fighting, but she always hesitated when it mattered—that was how she lost her role in the family and became _expendable._ By contrast, Hanabi was fierce and defiant; rambunctious and intrusive. She was the one who knocked on doors to speak her mind, the one who used her eyes to spy upon her surroundings to sate her need for leverage. The two sisters were opposites in almost every way, and Hinata often found herself envying the power and confidence that flowed through her longtime friend and family member. Despite the eventual envy that flowed between the siblings, Hanabi's birth was a joyous time; Hinata celebrated her sister's fresh life with elation and love, and that cherishing never went away, even as they took different paths.

Step by step, Hinata stayed behind Naruto and simply watched him interact with Sakura from afar. She pretended that _she_ was the one whose hand he was holding, that _she_ was the cheek who felt his kiss; the ear that heard his whispered secrets. She longed for that life, for that place at his side—she had craved it for as long as she could remember. He had been her one goal, her single aspiration—she wanted to be with Naruto, to help him become Hokage, to give him all he could ever want and so much more. She was always waiting in the shadows, wishing for the moment when he finally looked at her and said ' _Hinata, I think I'm falling in love with you_.' She always made herself available when she thought he might want her, and she put herself in harm's way more than once for the sake of protecting him. It was all so selfish of her; her sacrifices _seemed_ to be for his sake and his alone, but in the deeper reality of her mind, the motive was always the same: _Please let him notice me; let him fall for me._

Hinata knew for a long time that Naruto had a crush on Sakura, but very few people in their class ever took his feelings for the girl seriously. It seemed so juvenile, so fragile, the way he doted on the pink-headed girl day in and day out. She was his friend, absolutely, but a _lover_? There was no chance. Even _if_ his feelings were true, the talk over years worth of gossip always came back to one irrefutable fact: _She'll never stop chasing Sasuke. Naruto is wasting his time._ Hinata thought so, too. She _hoped_ so. Even when she saw the two together more and more during the months after the war and Sasuke's second departure, Hinata brushed it off as two friends enjoying their mutually earned victory. Team 7, the legendary line up of Kakashi, Sakura, Sasuke, and Naruto, had banded together to defeat the ' _Mother of all Chakra_ ,' the immortal and terrifying Kaguya Ootsutsuki. It was only natural that they would be tightly knit as a group. Hinata was absent during that battle, but not by choice—she was trapped in a dream just like all the others. A dream within which she saw herself with Naruto. A dream which, with some sense of shame, Hinata wished that she could return to.

"Naruto," she called out sheepishly from a few dozen feet behind the departing couple. They were absorbed in one another; whispering, giggling, squeezing, kissing. It looked as if there was nothing wrong between them. The Hyuuga gulped and clenched her teeth behind shut lips. She thought about turning around and abandoning her intentions, but she felt the burn of Sasuke's eyes on her back from high above. He was still watching her; he would disapprove. She learned from herself that she wanted nothing more than to impress the Uchiha who mentored her, and with thoughts of his encouragement, she spoke again with the intention of being heard: _"Naruto!"_

The clarity and volume of her voice surprised even _her_ , and her hand came up to clap over her mouth with shocked embarrassment. Could she really have been that loud? Naruto, too, was taken by surprise, and he paused with Sakura. Both he and his wife turned their heads over their shoulders in unison. "Hinata...?" Naruto questioned first, his voice soft but cutting through the distance with curious concern. The thin crowd that had been around Hinata was giving her some space, but she didn't care about their presence either way. She was on a mission from Sasuke—she was going to speak her mind, and she wasn't going to let up until she was satisfied.

"Naruto...could I please walk with you and Sakura until I get a little closer to home?" Hinata asked, lowering her voice a little bit while she caught up to the two of them. She tried to keep her chin up and look the couple in the eyes, but it was too difficult and she looked downward by the time she stopped moving, breathlessly awaiting the answer. Her assertiveness was fading quickly under the dual gaze.

"Oh, uh...sure, Hinata," Sakura worked out an answer as if to simultaneously tell Hinata and her husband that she was alright with the request. "Is something bothering you?"

Hinata thought, then lied: "N-no, nothing really." Before her mouth had fully closed, she could swear that she felt Sasuke's hand on her shoulder. She turned to look, but saw nothing there. The warmth didn't go away, however. "A-actually? There _is_ something wrong, but I don't want to mention it here. Can we just walk for now?" She felt extraordinarily pushy, but it was late and she wanted to get home. Further down, too, she wanted to be in a quiet spot before she said what was really on her mind.

Naruto looked at Sakura for approval, and he got it with a soft smile. He nodded his head and looked forward. "Yeah, let's go. Your place is pretty close along the way to ours, so it's no problem." He moved, and so did Sakura. Hinata stayed behind them, watching and waiting. She wasn't going to let the night end without speaking out, but she had to also obey her own natural tact. It was difficult enough to get Naruto's attention before; it would have been _impossible_ to leap right into saying what she wanted to say. Especially in front of Sakura, even though Sasuke had specifically told her to speak up no matter _who_ heard.

"Thanks for inviting me to dinner with you," Hinata said during the short journey. The gratitude was real, but the words were just a way of filling the awkward silence. Perhaps Naruto and Sakura didn't feel comfortable speaking in front of her, or maybe the growing clouds overhead had dampened the mood—either way, they weren't quite as chatty and affectionate anymore. The air cooled a little bit with an abrupt wind; rain was coming. The night was turning into a miserable one with startling quickness.

"Sure, it's always great to catch up with a good friend, right?" Naruto answered Hinata, looking back at her while she followed behind like a stray kitten begging for morsels. Any scrap of his attention was enough to keep a leash on her companionship; she asked for so very little, and got _exactly_ what she asked for. "What's really surprising is that Sasuke came, too," Naruto added while looking up to the sky. "He always hated wasting time, y'know?"

"I guess he didn't see it as a waste tonight," Hinata offered. "Is that how _you_ looked at it? As a waste?"

Naruto blinked, facing forward to resist the odd chill he felt coming from Hinata. His back twitched with a shuddering unease, and he got a peculiar sensation from her. "I...well, you can't look at your life and spend all your time obsessing over what's wasteful and what isn't, y'know? You gotta just take it how it is and enjoy what you get. That's not how he sees things, though; Sasuke's always been a guy with a mission in life—revenge, mostly, but sometimes he wants to protect people, too. Anyway, when he was younger he rushed ahead and acted on his own. If he wasn't getting stronger, he wasn't interested. A lot of the time, he still leaves people behind if he thinks they'd slow him down."

"Oh, that sounds _lonely_ ," Hinata lamented quietly as she felt the first raindrop of the night fall on her head. It rolled down the side of her hair and trickled onto her shoulder before soaking into her shirt and coming to a stop. More droplets followed, but the cold presence of the very first one lingered against her skin. She went a little faster, got a little closer to the other two who walked with her.

Naruto nodded. "He's always been that way, though. Lots of people wanted to be his friend when we were kids, but he kept pushing us all away. It's kinda strange that he's still in the village...he must have gotten a mission from Kakashi, or maybe he just gave one to _himself_. I dunno for sure, but there's gotta be something to it..."

Hinata fell quiet as she thought about it. What _was_ Sasuke's reason for staying? She wasn't arrogant enough to think that _she_ was his sole purpose for being around. She knew he cared, and he seemed to like being around her just fine, but it didn't make sense for him to anchor himself down to a place he claimed to hate just because he met a girl there. She had even offered to leave with him, but he turned it around on her and chose to stay, instead. What was running through his mind in that moment, she wondered? "You know a lot about people, Naruto," Hinata observed, pinching the hem of her shirt between her thumb and forefinger for a soft sort of reassurance. "So why wait until tonight? Why didn't you say something to me _earlier?_ "

The peculiar feeling was _growing_ from the girl behind Naruto, and he had an idea of what was coming next. He paused in place, then squeezed Sakura's fingers with his, giving her a look and muttering softly. "Hey, sweet cherry blossom?" He tried to be as affectionate as possible while also suddenly trying to get rid of her. "This is where the paths split, right? I'm gonna go ahead and take Hinata all the way to her door if you don't mind. You should go on home, and I'll see you when I catch up, yeah? It's been a tiring day, and I know you don't really feel like hanging out anymore."

Sakura squinted at the request, but she nodded her head. "Yeah, sure...I'd really like to lie down. It's been a _really_ long day." She stretched her arms over her head, arching her back and leaning to one side to loosen up her muscles. She looked pretty alluring when she flexed her chest against her shirt that way. Maybe she was just giving her husband a friendly reminder of what she had to 'offer' him to encourage a quick return home. "Don't take too long, okay? I'll be missing you every minute..." She lowered her arms and pecked a kiss onto his lips, smiling. She waved nicely to Hinata. "See you later, Hinata." When Sakura was turning away, she also frowned a bit, but it had nothing to do with Hinata and everything to do with what she had caught _herself_ saying earlier. Did she really think that her marriage might have been a mistake? Moment by moment, her certainty grew muddier. The thickening rain did nothing to wash away her guilt, but she was thankful for the dull roar of water hitting roofs as it covered the quickening noise of her breath as she hurried off.

"See you soon, Sakura," Naruto said to her as she took a turn on the road opposite to the one taken by himself and Hinata. Out of earshot and concealed by rainwater, Naruto took his partner by the shoulder and guided her underneath a sloped awning positioned below a burnt-out street light. The business which the awning belonged to was closed, and the shutters were clamped tightly over the windows in front of the one-story building that lurked unassumingly along the roadside. Darkness, wetness, and solitude were the highlights of the chosen shelter, and Naruto gave Hinata a stern look. "What are you trying to get at with that remark, Hinata? I thought you were _okay_..."

"Maybe that's the problem," Hinata said, her voice having its usual meekness but her eyes turning confrontational. "How long did you know about my feelings, Naruto...? When did you figure out that I was trying everything I could _think of_ to make you love me?" She could feel it rising, subtly at first but rapidly building upon itself. It was guilt, it was shame, it was _anger_. She blamed herself but she also found cause to blame _him_ , too. Whether she was right or not, she had to empty herself of all her wandering thoughts, lest she harbor them forever. It was no longer about impressing Sasuke—this was _her_ moment.

Naruto was silent for a few beats of his quickening heart. He had been so smooth and confident inside the restaurant, but with Hinata firmly in his vision and no rescue coming his way, he felt weight pulling at his fingertips and it distracted him. "It's...been a while, Hinata. I've known for a _while_."

Damp, deep blue hair turned frizzy one speck at a time, and Hinata's jawline wriggled back and forth while she chewed the realization. "A while..." she began, looking downward. An invisible pair of fingers touched her chin and lifted her face back up. She heard Sasuke's voice within her own memories: ' _Eyes up, Hinata. Don't bow your head to_ _ **anyone**_ _.'_ She met Naruto's piercing blues with the milky-lavender of her accusation. "Why didn't you tell me _sooner_? Why did you let me wake up every day for months and think that I could have _still_ _done something to earn your love?_ " Her cheeks were puffed out and her forehead had a twitch in it. She struggled with expressing herself, but as she gave in and allowed the anger to flow it became easier by the second.

Naruto took a slight step back, but kept himself situated under the green, rubbery-plastic cover that blocked the rain. His chin leaned up but his eyes turned down, like he feared that Hinata might slug him and he wanted to take it like a man. The way she steamed at him was unusual; oddly assertive. _Where did all this come from?_ He answered her and tried to justify himself: "I didn't want to _hurt you_ , Hinata. You may have said you'd _always_ love me, but...I was kinda hoping you'd grow out of it, or something. I didn't know how to talk to you about it, so...I just didn't say _anything._ What would it have done to you if I came over to you out of the blue one day and said 'hey, Hinata, _don't bother_ , I'll never love you the way you want me to!?'" Naruto developed a bit of a chip on his shoulder; he was getting defensive. He didn't want to believe that he had made a mistake. "Would that have made you _happier_?"

"I would've cried, Naruto...for days, at _least_ ," she strained, and while it seemed to be an admission that she was seeing his point of view, she took another step forward and raised a hand, laying a pointed fingertip on his chest. "But I've already been crying for _months_ , now...and I kept telling myself that I only had to be stronger, or that I had to be more beautiful; I tricked myself into believing that I should be less like _myself_ and more like somebody _else._ I thoughtmaybe you'd love me _ **then**_." She paused to take a breath; she was panting already, and she _might_ have been crying, though the tear drops along her face would have blended with the rain that blew in sideways from the wind. She steadied herself and folded her finger away from Naruto's chest, tucking it into a little fist. She never broke eye contact. "When I realized that it was hopeless, I felt lost and alone; I felt like the punchline to a long _joke_...but even though I knew I was wrong, I _still_ thought I could have you if I just tried _harder_." Lightning struck between two clouds above, and a crunch of thunder echoed through the emptied streets.

Naruto folded his arms over his chest and turned his head away. He looked defiant in every spot except for his eyes, where he revealed his shame. "It's not like I _never_ thought about you that way, Hinata..." He sighed, closing his eyes and unfolding his arms to rest his hands on his hips. "And it's not about there being something _wrong_ with you, so...don't be hard on yourself. Don't think of this as being anybody's _fault_ that I chose Sakura. It's just...Sakura keeps me in line, gives me focus, y'know?" He peered his eyes open again, and he saw intensity on Hinata's face that wasn't letting up, even as he kept talking. She was genuinely upset and she wasn't letting herself bottle it up anymore. On one level, Naruto was glad to see her severe emotions manifesting...but on the level of thought just above that one, he _really_ didn't want to be on the receiving end of it. He had a strong suspicion that the worst of it hadn't even surfaced yet. Meanwhile, he had already begun voicing a thought and felt a responsibility to finish it: "Sakura always tells me when I'm going too far, and she reels me back in...but all _you've_ ever done was cheer me on. You _support_ me, and I've always been grateful for it...but you never _question_ me...and I need _that,_ too." He felt an unsteady smile come up on his mouth. "Well, you haven't till _now_ , I guess."

Hinata shouldered the increasing weight of frustration. Her arm twitched, and before she could even think it through, her right limb lifted and the palm of her hand struck Naruto's cheek with the intent to hurt him. Despite a solid impact, it was no good; he was too tough. All she ended up doing was stinging her own skin, but she struck again with the back of the same hand in the other direction. She raised her voice to a sobbing shout: "I never question you because I have _faith_ in you, can't you see that?! I believe that you'll always make the right choices!" After a short, intense glare, she winced and nursed her reddened hand with the other, clutching her fingers tight near her heart. She whimpered a little as she continued. "You've done _so_ _many_ great things, and all I ever wanted was to be there to hold you up...I expected you to always know the right answers to any problem, because I always thought that you were the _best_ there is...why would I ever question my biggest _hero_? The idol I've always _admired_? The person I love more than my _own life_?"

Naruto felt the slap and subsequent backhand, and his head snapped a half-inch in each direction to follow. He felt like he deserved it for making her cry, so he didn't even make a sound to protest the impacts. He frowned on the tail end of the small explosion of rage as he listened to every word out of Hinata's mouth. He decided to be direct and honest, because he could see how badly his soft approach had fared thus far. "That's just _it_ , Hinata...I don't want to marry somebody who does nothing but tells me how great I am...I need a partner; an _equal_. I don't want a _fan_ to be my wife. No matter how strong I become, I won't ever have all the answers on my own. I married Sakura because she isn't _just_ a support beam underneath me; she's that, but she's even more, too. She can be a smooth road, or a high hurdle—whatever she thinks I need her to be. Even though she doesn't always agree with my ideas, she's always the one I can turn to. Our relationship in the past was never perfect; our marriage in the future won't be, either. But she makes me better by _questioning_ me...and that's what I need if I ever want to become Hokage." He felt the silence again, and he summed up his thoughts: "You're amazing just as you are, Hinata...it's just, well...you're not really my _type_ , I guess."

Hinata listened, and listened well. She felt the honesty; the raw and unscripted nature of what he said. That was the _real_ thing. She had gotten beneath the veiled encouragements and the constant upbeat personality of her infallible hero. She had finally _questioned_ him, and Naruto knew it as well as she did. "Not your type..." She swallowed, dejected. " _Neji_ didn't question you, right?" Hinata poignantly murmured through the weather after a long silence. Tears fell and mixed with the rain clearly, her eyelids turning red and puffy. "He's _dead_ , Naruto. Neji is dead because of _me_."

Naruto got a chill. "W-what?" He looked at her with both eyes and touched her with both hands, each of them resting on her shoulders and bracing her in front of him. He bent down to stay level with her face and gave her a frantic, worried examination with hyperactive eyes. "You think what happened to Neji is _your_ fault?" He took a deep breath, and his mouth felt heavy on the bottom half. "But...why would you ever say that?"

Hinata wasn't finished being angry, just yet. The blackness was starting to soften along the edges of her sight, but the heat in her chest was still there waiting to be expelled through harsh words. "He's dead because of how much I love you, Naruto..." She stepped backward, escaping the grip of his hands and leaving the awning to stand in the freely falling rain. Within a moment she was soaked, and the shape of her upper body was accentuated by the way her thin training shirt clung to her skin. "And he's also dead because of how much he cared about me...I was ready to _die_ to protect you...But I wasn't ready to let _him_ die for _my_ sake. Every day I think about that moment, and I wish it had gone differently."

Naruto could only watch. He no longer felt as if he had _any_ ability to make her feel better. Her guilt had finally hit its peak, and the top of her mountain was about to blow off and become a volcano. He whispered "I'm sorry," to her, once and then twice and then a third time. She never blinked, never softened. He did, though. "I never knew you felt that way..."

"Naruto...I would trade my life for his in an _instant_. I wanted you to live more than I wanted to live myself, because I knew how important you were to the future of this entire world...and because I didn't want to live a life that didn't have _you_ in it." Her slender arms shook as water bounced off her clothes, hair, and skin. A puddle was formed at her feet and her toes were curled away from the chill. She shivered with the throes of guilt, rage, and rain. "But Neji wouldn't stand for it...he wanted me to live just like _I_ wanted _you_ to live..." She looked straight up, and her eyes squeezed shut to block out the tears falling from the sky. "Until now, I was telling myself that...if I knew how much pain I was going to feel when I lost you to Sakura...I would have rather died that night _anyway_. I honestly wanted to be put back into the eternal dream...I asked, 'why did you wake me up only to strip away the hope I had for the future?'" She swallowed hard again; the taste of rain was in her mouth and on her lips, and she felt heavy with the cling of water all along her body. "I wondered about what difference would it have made if you had just left me in there so I could dream about being with you forever."

Naruto scowled. "No, that's _not okay_...I won't just stand here and listen to you talking that way about yourself." He stepped forward, but Hinata turned her head back down and raised her hand with her palm out to signal him to stop.

"I'm not finished, Naruto...that's just how I thought _until now_..." Hinata's fist slowly relaxed. Her fingers curled out and the impressed tendons in her forearms vanished beneath the layer of her skin. She breathed a quiet sigh, and she crossed her hands together at the base of her back, fingers intertwined. She stood in the rain, still. Despite everything, she smiled. "I've realized how foolish I was to focus so much on you; to put _all_ of my hopes behind you. In the end, maybe that wasn't fair of me...You're just _one_ person, no matter how many clones you can make. There are a lot people who think you're some kind of God, and maybe you _are_..." She shrugged her shoulders. "But you're also the same person who couldn't make a single clone back at the academy. You're stronger now, Naruto...but I know you're not perfect. Neither am I. I expected too much out of you; I cared so much about my own happiness that I forgot to think about _yours._ Even if I never find love again, I don't hate you, even if it sounds like I do...I'm just frustrated, and I've been needing to let it out. This has been an especially hard day for me..."

Naruto sighed and ran a hand through his light yellowish hair. "I never knew you were holding so much back...but I _mean_ it, Hinata...It's not your fault that Neji's gone. It's _mine_..." He leaned against the sturdily-shuttered window of the sweets shop he had chosen as shelter. The rain was slowing down; it was just a sudden downpour with no staying power. "I'm sorry I put you and him in a position where you needed to save me...I should have been stronger." Naruto thought for a moment, then he chuckled softly. "No, actually...who are we kidding? We both know that he chose his fate for _himself_. He wouldn't want either of us taking the blame, y'know? He was looking out for _each_ of us, and he would have saved me even if you _hadn't_ been there because that's just the kind of guy Neji was."

Hinata's anger cooled and she admitted that Naruto was right. She disciplined herself internally because she should have realized that a long time ago: Neji wasn't some helpless victim. He was a shinobi, and one of the strongest ones Hinata had ever known. His death _meant_ something. She once thought that it meant that she and Naruto were destined for one another, and that nothing could get in the way of their eventual love...but she had been expecting too much. If fate was something that existed, its motives and messages were proving that they were not quite as obvious as she thought. "You're right. He's a hero to us both, even if we're living _separately._ I guess there's no simple solution to a happy life, huh Naruto?" She smiled softly as embarrassment started settling in. If it hadn't been for the rain and thunder, the whole village probably would have heard her shouting. She thanked the weather with a light bow of her head, then tucked soaked hair behind her ear.

"I'm sorry, Hinata...I really wish I could have been _more_ for you...but that just isn't the way things went." Naruto felt the guilt at last; he _had_ thought about Hinata occasionally while dating Sakura. He thought of her while _moving in_ with Sakura. He thought about Hinata a _lot_ , actually. He never consciously ignored her, but he had eventually made another choice; the choice he _wanted_ to make without regrets. "I've learned that it's impossible to please everybody...so sometimes I just have to go with my gut. My gut chose to marry _Sakura;_ and so did my heart, and my mind. She means everything to me, Hinata, and I love her enough to do _anything_ for her. I hope you can be happy for me and her, someday—and happy with yourself, too."

Hinata nodded, and although it still stung, even after venting, she was beginning to see the snow on the upper half of the mountainside. She wasn't there yet, but Sasuke had given her the equipment to make the climb a little bit easier. "I can tell that you love her a lot...and that's why it hurts me so much. I'm just jealous, that's all...I see you two together and I think that it should be me wearing your ring instead. Don't...don't tell her I said something like that, though. Promise?"

Naruto shrugged. "I dunno, she has a way of making me say things I don't mean to say...but it's alright, either way. Sakura's no stranger to jealousy, y'know?" He sighed, brushing his hand down the front of his face. "I dunno if you noticed, but she's been starting to give Sasuke that _look_ again..."

Hinata blinked. "What look?"

Naruto huffed. "The one she used to give him all the time when we were on a team together; the one that makes her say and do crazy things without thinking them through. I thought she had _really_ gotten over him, but..." He frowned to himself. "I guess it's like you say; there's no easy solution to life."

"Do you think she's still in love with him...?" Hinata pondered, feeling another sense of jealousy. If Sakura still had feelings for Sasuke, then what would Sasuke _do_ about it? She knew how much he yearned for his former teammate, and if she yearned the same way...it might have been inevitable that they would fall back together.

"I don't know exactly what _she_ thinks it is. I doubt it's going to last, but..." Naruto looked to Hinata again with a relapse of shame. "I've been wrong before, y'know?" He rubbed the back of his head while he thought. "I'm gonna talk to her, see what she thinks about all of it. It might be that she was reminiscing about good times...or maybe our marriage was just doomed from the start, huh?" He chuckled sardonically. "Either way, it's my job as her husband to get to the bottom of it and sort it all out, y'know? She's always there for me, and right now I have to be there for _her_."

Hinata gave a nod. She was still breathing hard, and her clothes were soaked and cold, but she felt a lot better. The anger was at least temporarily relieved; the pressure on her skull was subsiding, though of course it wasn't completely gone. "Then you should go be there for her, Naruto...I'll find my own way home from here. It's not far."

The somewhat-uncomfortable Jinchuriki took a slow, uncertain breath. "Are things gonna be okay between you and me, Hinata?"

Hinata turned her head. "I don't know...give me a little bit more time. "

Naruto gave a slow nod. "Right, then...I'll be seeing you around, Hinata."

"I'll see you, too, Naruto...and congratulations on your wedding." Hinata said as the object of all her jealousy, resentment, and childish notions of romance vanished on the spot with a confident smirk, leaving behind a tiny gust of wind as the empty space was quickly filled by air. He was fast; faster than ever. As she started home, Hinata idly found herself wondering if Naruto was even faster than Sasuke.

* * *

Sasuke had allowed himself to 'forget' about Hinata after she turned a corner with Naruto and Sakura. She was out of his hands for the night, and could take care of herself. He left it up to her to decide if she wanted to actually go through with his impromptu lesson or not; he wouldn't 'fail' her no matter what she chose, but he wanted to give her the inspiration to do something unusual. Something akin to the way she grabbed him and yanked him all up and down the stairs during their first dinner date. _She'll do what she wants to do_ , he told himself. _Now I can do what **I** need to do. _

The rain had started falling a short while before, and it hadn't stopped falling by the time he heard the first cry for help of the night—he was among the rooftops, hopping to and fro at a lazy pace, keeping his eyes and ears as open as could be. The pleading cries came as a female voice, and the sound was coming from a nearby park pathway concealed by dense foliage. She might have just been lost, or wanted to escape the rain—but it didn't matter. Sasuke felt compelled to answer the call. In a flash, he was no longer in the rooftops, but on ground level beneath the treetops. He settled both feet on the stone walkway and spotted the woman in peril within a second of his arrival. She was struggling with a man in plain street clothes; probably a mugging, like most of the petty crimes that Sasuke ran into. He walked closer without saying a word, keeping an eye on what was happening. To his surprise, the woman with deep brown hair was putting up a decent fight, even managing to shove her assailant off of her with a well-placed kick to his sternum.

The man, a run-of-the-mill thug with short hair and long fingernails, recovered from his embarrassing hit and was pouncing again. He took the brunette by the hair and forced her to turn around, slamming her against a tree just off the side of the walkway. " _Shut up!_ " he barked, holding her in place by the head. He was about to force her face into tree bark, while his other hand was trying to wrestle for her belongings. He seemed to think he was on top of the world, abusing the poor lady. She was a bit overweight, a little bit wrinkled around the eyes. She was an easy target, or so it seemed—the criminal was going to have a bruise along his ribs from the kick she got in, provided he actually survived the night. He finished his robbery without hurting her badly and attempted to get away clean, but as he left the woman to turn and run, he tripped over a rock in the road, tumbling forward. "Damn it!" he groaned, bringing himself up to stand and run again.

He checked where he was stepping, that time—but he tripped over another rock that he could have sworn wasn't there before. His face crashed into the ground beside the slim road, a puddle of mud soaking into his dark blue shirt and getting his face dirty. He stood back up, still carrying the stolen purse. He turned to look at the woman, expecting that she would be running him down, but she wasn't—she was looking down the path. She saw a bizarre man there, dressed in black and standing idly. The rain was falling, but it seemed to avoid touching him—it parted over his head like a curtain and hit the ground without ever tainting him or his clothing. The female victim was in awe, and when the crook caught sight of the same thing, he dropped the pouch of belongings he had stolen and tried to run yet again. Predictably, there was _another_ rock in the way that hadn't been there before, which caught the tip of a raising foot. He kept his balance at first, until he hit yet another obstacle that caught him in front of the ankle, bowling him over and dropping him into another puddle, this time a deep one which he floated in after glugging face down for a moment.

The caught offender was no longer trying to earn a score; he was desperately trying to escape the _divine intervention_ that was evidently coming his way. Even the _rain_ respected the silent avenger, so what chance did a guy like _him_ have against such a force of nature? The intimidating presence in dark clothes with mismatched bright eyes took his first dramatic step, and the puddles parted in a bubbling foam beneath his shoe until he laid its sole on completely dry stone. He approached, and whenever the panicked crook tried to stand himself up there was either a rock on the ground or a stray gush of water within the puddle which threw his balance out from beneath him and kept him down. Eventually, defeated on his hands and knees without ever being touched by a human hand, he bowed his head down and begged: "I dunno who or what you are, just don't kill me! _Please_ don't...I got nothin', nowhere to go, nobody to be with...I'm just tryin' ta feed myself, ya understand!?"

On his knees with his hands folded in prayer, he looked upon the flawless visage of Sasuke Uchiha; he was either a nightmare made flesh or a god given form, depending on who was asked. His Rinnegan was gleaming brightly, and its dominion over gravitational forces gave him the power to place rocks and water currents in 'convenient' places for the crook to fumble over; it also kept the rain from touching him as it fell, and kept him from wetting his feet in a puddle. Sometimes, he had a little bit too much _fun_ with his tremendous powers, but it was a worthy cause to terrify the criminal element. Let them fear something they don't understand. In response to the begging, Sasuke looked down upon the human filth and asked a question with his own hand on the hilt of his sword: "Why do you think you deserve to live?"

The bowed man, realizing that he was being judged, gulped and shrugged his shoulders. Nervously he smiled and showed that his teeth were in good shape. "I uh...never really thought about it..." he said with stuttering fear. "I just...I _like_ bein' alive, that's all. I wanna keep doing it."

Sasuke nodded his head, then looked to the woman still stunned against the tree; she was clutching the handbag that had somehow found its way back into her possession through thin air. "Miss," Sasuke began toward her, but found himself looking back to his captive who was bound by nothing more than fear. "Do you think this man deserves life?"

The woman had a wound along the top of her forehead from her impact with the tree, dripping a little bit of blood down the rim of her left eye. Otherwise she seemed none the worse for wear. She was scared of Sasuke, but at least she wasn't the one being weighed and measured by the strange man. She didn't recognize her savior through the dark and the rain, even if she did know his face, which she might not have. "Don't ask me to make the choice," she said quietly. "I don't think it's my right..."

Sasuke smirked. "No, I suppose not. Then it's up to me, isn't it?" He drew his sword, the whole length of the silver blade coming into sight around his rainless exterior. He extended the metal outward, touching the very tip to the subdued man's chin, then slipping the point down near his throat. "Or...maybe it's _not_ up to me." He pulled the blade back, leaving only a dot of redness on the trembling male's neck just beneath the jawline. "Not _yet,_ " Sasuke emphasized, drawing the blunt side of his blade across its sheathe until the tip fell into the open hole. He slid the weapon back into place with slow, deliberate purpose. He was letting the mugger sweat it out.

"I'm sorry," the robber said with his forehead to the ground, his nose submerged in the inch-deep water as he panted with terror. "I won't do anything like this again, not a _damn_ _thing_...I'll be a _saint_ if you just let me live!"

Sasuke smirked. He got closer, and his foot landed beside the man's head. Scared eyes turned up again, and the Uchiha spoke with a calmness in his voice. "That's right. You'll be a saint from this day forward...or else I'll tear the soul from your body and send you directly into the mouth of hell. Do you think I'm capable of doing something like that?" To the question, the opportunistic mugger gave a silent nod, enthusiastic in his desire to do what he was supposed to do to live. Sasuke kneeled down and reached a hand into his own pouch, digging for something. When he pulled it out, it was green and enticing—a small handful of money. "This time, though, given that I can't let a man starve in good conscience, I'll provide enough funds for you to feed yourself for a few days. Squander this boon and eventually go hungry, or take this moment as a chance to rethink the choices you've made in life." Sasuke smirked; the man was hesitant to take the gift. He looked at it and salivated, but he must have thought it was a trap. Sasuke reached around to find the man's pocket and tucked the bills into the slot himself. "Now run along, and _think_. I live in this village, now—and I won't be merciful if I catch you a second time."

The vagabond didn't need to be told again. Standing up then throwing his hands in the air to prove he meant no further harm, he turned and ran with a frightened wail. To his relief, the path in front of him was clear of obnoxious stones, and he was able to scurry out of sight like a little mouse. Sasuke looked to the woman left behind and gave her a courteous nod. "Are you alright?" he asked her.

She nodded, slowly at first but with great confidence. "I'm okay," she assured. "So, you're that guy people have been whispering about, right...? The one whose been helping people like me all around the village these past couple of weeks?"

Sasuke turned his face away. The last thing he needed was a reputation for being some kind of night-time savior. He did it because he _needed_ to, not because he wanted to be recognized. He had considered wearing a mask, but it would have been cliche—he settled for shaking his head. "No ma'am, no relation...I was just passing through." He turned entirely away, reaching his hand up to tighten his cloak around his shoulders before vanishing from sight in a flurry of instantaneous motion.

* * *

Hiding within the leaves of one of the trees along the park pathway, there was a figure dressed in all black from the neck down, but with a white and red mask upon his face. It was like a cat's head. He was perched there with both feet clinging horizontally to the trunk of the tree, his body jutting out like a particularly thick branch. In one hand there was a small notepad; in the other, an inky brush. He was writing something down, jotting little shorthand commentary. He had seen the exchange with Sasuke and was making note of it. "Interesting, Sasuke Uchiha..." the male hummed in a smooth voice, finishing his brief recounting of the incident with a flourished period at the end of the elaborately-written sentence. He nodded to himself, and his mask sagged slightly; it still wasn't properly fitted.

* * *

Hinata made it home safely, just like she expected to—Hanabi's attempted kidnapping was a scary thing to think about, but the perpetrators were killed on the spot. It was unlikely, even if the pair _were_ a part of some larger plan, that a second attempt would be made on the same day against the very same clan. Hinata arrived at nearly midnight, and she crept through the halls to open her door and enter her room. It was dark inside, so she flipped a switch on the wall to turn on the light in the corner. She nearly jumped out of her skin when she saw a person in her bed; she was stepping back and raising her arms as if ready to fight.

She relaxed a second later. It was only Hanabi, laying on her tummy upon her sister's mattress while reading one of Ko's 'secret' books. "Our bodyguard's got kind of a dirty mind, don't you think?" she asked playfully, clapping the tome shut and laying it on Hinata's nightstand. She rolled onto her back, leaning her head over the side of the mattress and letting her hair hang down onto the hardwood floor. "What took you so long, anyway? I thought you were right behind me."

Hinata nodded. "Oh, I _was..._ I just remembered that I had some business with the Hokage, and it...took longer than expected." She smiled and nodded, and she couldn't get over how light her shoulders finally felt. She had ranted at Naruto for a few minutes, like she had been needing to—and he didn't treat her with any disrespect. The end of the world seemed further and further away by the day. She kept her smile, then she tilted her head suspiciously. "But there's no reason to lie to you, is there, little sister? I'm sure you know exactly where I ended up..."

Hanabi chuckled shamelessly. "Well, I had to make sure you were safe out there. Two creeps just tried to snatch me up, and you're a whole lot _prettier_ than I am. I bet they'd send _three_ after you."

Hinata pursed her lips. "You shouldn't joke about it, Hanabi. This is serious—did you tell father?"

"Yeah, but he doesn't think much of it. Once our training finished, he told me that I shouldn't let it stop me from going out on my own. He said that putting a bunch of bodyguards on me would just make us look scared, or weak. Whatever word he used; I was kinda dazed when he said it to me." She rolled her shoulder, squeezing beside her neck until her joint gave a satisfying pop. "Nngh, he worked me pretty hard today...you know, you're lucky you're not the heiress. I'd much rather train with...you know...than with Father."

"Speaking of which...you didn't tell him about what you saw me doing today, did you?" Hinata braced for hearing that her sister's big mouth had sold her out.

"Nah, I wouldn't do that to you. I may be jealous, but I'm not gonna get you in trouble just for the sake of it." Hanabi waved a dismissive hand. "You'd get all of Father's wrath, and that's not something I wish on _anybody_ , let alone you."

Hinata smiled softly, moving to sit herself on her bed and peel her soaked shirt off, tossing it aside and replacing it with a warm, dry one that had been folded on the edge of her table. It was white and thick, borderline fluffy. She hugged it against herself to get comfortable as she laid back onto her bed, her head hanging down the opposite side as Hanabi. "I don't know...it seems like Father cares a lot more about you than he does about me, and sometimes it bothers me. It might be _good_ to have him yell at me for a while...at least that would prove that he _does_ notice the things I do."

Hanabi blinked. "Eh? I thought you kind of got used to being ignored...does it really still bug you?"

Hinata nodded, rubbing her hand along her stomach idly. She had eaten plenty, but for some reason she still had a sort of empty feeling in the bottom of her belly. "Yeah...he's my _father,_ but he doesn't care about me. That's not something I can just get _used_ to. When I was with the Hokage, I saw the Clan's entry form on the desk—Father entered me into the Beginner Tier. Did you know that?"

Hanabi nodded slowly. "Yeah, I did...you told me, remember?"

"Hmm, I did, didn't I?" Hinata flexed her toes, wriggling her feet side to side to air dry them over the side of the bouncing springs of her bed; her skin had been dampened and started to shrivel a little after walking through the downpour.

"It's for the best; I'd hate to have to fight against you..." Hanabi yawned, scrawling out against the plushness she laid upon. "But I don't know, maybe it'd be kind of _fun_ , too. Today really got me in the mood to mix it up a little..."

"Why'd you kill them anyway, Hanabi? You know, Sas-" she started, but then she lowered her voice, just in case. "Sasuke's not happy with you..."

Hanabi made a psh sound. "When's the last time he was _ever_ happy? You've heard the stories—he's just a big lump of hatred and vengeance. Saying Sasuke Uchiha isn't happy is about as shocking as saying a cat has _fur_..."

Hinata sighed, laying her arm over her forehead. She wasn't as sore as she had been during the previous two weeks of training, but that was only because Sasuke had dismissed the lesson early. She had another day of endless toiling awaiting her at noon the next day. "You should talk to him seriously sometime, Hanabi...he's actually very kind."

"Yeah, maybe to you..." Hanabi grumbled. She was still holding a micro-grudge after the brief spat she had with the dangerous, powerful Uchiha in the alley. She couldn't really blame him for being irritated; she _had_ cost him two valuable sources of information, but still. He didn't have to be such a _grump_ about it. "Just make sure he's not stringing you along, or something. I know you're on his side, but don't let your guard down around him. You never know—maybe he's the one who wants to kidnap me, and he was just mad that I killed his buddies..."

Hinata shut her eyes, exasperated by the line of thought. "I _know_ you don't believe that."

"Why not? He's done worse, right?" Hanabi kicked her legs into the air as she laid on her back, rolling her feet around like she was peddling a bike. "Are you _sure_ he's not looking for ways to stir up trouble?"

"I can't be _sure_ , but I don't think he is. I don't really know _what_ he wants. I just know that I want to see him get it. I want to see him smile more." Hinata blushed slightly as she confessed even that small thing to her little sister. Hanabi was on that like a fruit fly on a peach.

"Ohh? I guess your 'training' is going really well, then." She made a kissy face and mimicked the sound of lips smacking together. "I'm seriously jealous, sis. Can't lie."

Hinata yawned quietly to cover up her flustered look. "Why are you even still awake, Hanabi...? And why are you in _my_ bed?" She gave her sibling a gentle push on the shoulder, playfully trying to shove her out of bed beside her. It was all in good spirits; no matter what, Hinata couldn't stay upset with the younger version of her.

"At first, I stayed up because I really _was_ worried...then, once I got a good look at where you were, it made me want to keep watching...you and Sasuke were really getting friendly in there, eh?" Hanabi had seen the lapse in judgement—the second one, anyway. She made no mention of the tournament entry forms; she must not have been aware of the visit to the Hokage's office. Good; she hadn't seen the altered document. She wasn't done commentating, though: "Oh, and what was up between you and Naruto on the way back?"

"Mind your own business; you shouldn't use the Byakugan to spy on people," Hinata said defensively. "And go to bed. Father won't like that you're still awake right now."

"Eh, as long as I'm awake on time for morning training, he doesn't care how late I'm up. If I _do_ arrive off time, well...that's not fun. You say you wish he'd pay more attention, but I think you're pretty _lucky_ that he doesn't yell at you for staying out too long. I wish _I_ could just wander around with Sasuke and Naruto whenever I wanted to..."

Hinata languidly sat up in bed and looked around the room. Everything was still in place, despite Hanabi's intrusion. The only change was that there was now a book on her nightstand that she didn't particularly want, but she could think of worse outcomes. "I wish he'd at least _pretend_ to care about what I did, though. Anyway, I get the feeling he's going to have some words for me when I finish my first tournament match..." She stretched herself out, yawning and enjoying the luxurious plushness of her fresh shirt. She hugged it close to her chest and stomach with both arms. The night was surprisingly cool thanks to the abrupt rainfall outside. "Thanks for waiting up for me, Hanabi...I'm glad _you_ care."

Hanabi shrugged, rolling out of bed and landing on all fours like a feline before gracefully unfurling up onto both feet with an even flow. She yawned, too, feeling the tiredness flood in. "Ko was also worried. I didn't even tell him about what happened to me, so he was just being his usual self." She cracked her knuckles one at a time, recalling her encounter a few hours past. "I don't want to make you fret, but you should be careful the next time you go out, sis. Those guys were pretty strong, and they were dressed like Konoha shinobi. People like them can come from anywhere, so just keep an eye open, okay?"

"Sasuke..." Hinata started, twiddling her thumbs as she shifted herself around and wiggled underneath her covers, feet first. "He said he'd keep me safe...I think I'd worry more about the person who tries to hurt me than I would about myself..."

Hanabi blinked. "You sure he meant it? I don't know if I'd trust a guy like him..."

The memory came back and Hinata trembled. She heard the freezing sureness in the Uchiha's voice all over again. "Oh, he meant it...I _know_ he did." She squeezed her blanket from beneath the covers, rubbing her knees together somewhat bashfully. The strength of his voice alone had nearly knocked her onto her backside in the Hokage's office. Somehow, he could make her either stronger or weaker just by saying a few choice words.

"Well...if you say so." Hanabi gave one more yawn, her little feet heading for the door. "Goodnight, Hinata."

Hinata felt confused, in hindsight: why was he declaring that he would protect her, anyway? And had she _really_ been so willing to leave the village behind just to join him on some aimless journey? As she watched Hanabi leave the room with an over-the-shoulder wave, she second guessed her own certainty. It had all felt just perfect in the moment, when the rush of sensations and impulses had clouded every speck of her good judgement. Who was Sasuke to her, really? Why did she care so much about his well-being? And why did he care about _hers_? Was it just because she was beautiful? She definitely felt attractive whenever Sasuke looked at her, even though he didn't have much expression to spare. But that wasn't _all of it._ She didn't just feel _pretty_ attractive; she felt like a magnet that kept pulling him in, just like he kept pulling on her. Though she was lost in thought, she answered her sister to avoid feeling rude: "Goodnight, Hanabi. I'll see you in the morning."

After Hanabi closed the door and shut the light off to give the older sibling some peace, Hinata laid alone in the darkness for over an hour contemplating what had happened that day. Her last thought before drifting off to sleep was ' _What is Sasuke thinking about right now?_ '

* * *

After a few hours of crushing petty thefts and foiling a few attempted break-and-enters, Sasuke felt accomplished enough to return home to his tiny apartment. It seemed that no matter how many criminals he stopped, regardless of whether he tied them up or let them go, there never seemed to be any dent in the number of incidents he found the next night. Even with his marvelous capabilities, the village was simply too huge for him to catch or deter every single crime. He settled for dealing with what he _could_ deal with, and hoped that eventually there would be a shift. He wished for what Kakashi hoped for; the tournament would be the true test of the village's condition. If the hypothesis was correct, and the rise in bad behavior was the result of bored or frustrated soldiers, then having a huge, gaudy distraction should lower the rates. If the crime rates were unchanged during the contest, however, then there would be very little hope for a long term shift until this ethereal 'technology' saw the light of day. The Hokage kept mentioning the development in passing, but Sasuke found himself wondering exactly what it was, and why Kakashi had so much faith in its ability to turn around the entire village's financial situation.

Approaching the door to Apartment #7, Sasuke checked his left pants pocket for his key—not that he needed it, but it was nice to be formal. As he dug around between bits of metal change, he caught sight of a rat poking around in the garbage around the corner of the building, its nose sniffing nonchalantly about. Sasuke sighed, lifting two fingers and charging them with low-voltage electricity. A jolt arced between both fingertips, and with a sudden scissor-pinch, Sasuke clamped the opposing currents together and fired off a tiny crackling spark, which instantly struck the small rat and splattered it in every direction. Sasuke moved next to the firework-shaped pattern of liquid with a small trail of smoke rising from the center and ran his finger analytically through the muck left behind—as he already knew, it wasn't blood.

"Come out," Sasuke declared quietly, unimpressed. "I know that you've been following me since I left the restaurant." Rather than an acknowledgment of being discovered, Sasuke heard a rustling sound atop the roof behind him; the slight movement turned into a slurping swish of thick fluid. Sasuke turned to see the figure he expected—the black ops agent from the Hokage's office, wearing the same mask and touting fresh scrolls in the wings of his robes. He was trying to make a quick escape with some kind of rapid teleportation technique, swiftly aiming to surround himself with inky blackness. _But it won't work if that sludge can't finish encircling you, will it?_ Sasuke deduced, and his left eye flared up with chakra. While the spy did his best to finish his retreating technique, it was no use—he was, within the span of a single nanosecond, ripped out from the center of his converging, robust liquid and placed into the palm of Sasuke's waiting hand, dangling by the loose collar of his robe.

The operative gasped instinctively as the half-finished teleportation technique was still trying to complete upon the roof; without its epicenter, the man who had been torn out of it by Sasuke's eye, it all collapsed into a wet, heavy splash and trickled down the roof to fill the gutters and empty into a concrete tube which led underground. Sasuke shoved the masked figure by the collar against the wall on the south end of the apartment building. His Rinnegan wasn't finished exerting itself quite yet—with his natural right arm holding the spy against the wall, Sasuke used the half-limb of his left arm and tossed his cloak aside to make room; he began to funnel chakra toward that part of his body. Individual plates of steel and titanium intermingled as some mish-mash of organic parts, gradually stretching out from the stump of his missing arm to form into a fully functioning limb, its robotic structure overlaid by real-looking flesh. With his freshly-made arm courtesy of the Asura Path, Sasuke drew his blade from its sheathe and pressed its tip to the operative's robe, threatening to puncture straight into his heart if he found reason to.

"When I tell you to come out...it's in your best interests to _come out_..." Sasuke spoke calmly, despite the tightness of his grip on the dark collar of his quarry. "And you can tell the Hokage that I won't tolerate being spied on."

The voice under the mask was even-tempered, despite the mortal danger he was in. "I'm not here on his orders, Sasuke," he said. Though he wasn't overtly terrified, there was a strong sense of urgency, a little tremble that Sasuke could pick up underneath the words being spoken. "Though it wasn't asked of me, I took the liberty of checking the bodies on my own accord after I brought them to the morgue."

Sasuke hummed. He seemed unconvinced of the explanation, but he had gotten his own point across—another person had learned not to test him. After sheathing his sword and letting the masked figure down from the wall, his newly-created arm vanished just as it had appeared, receding into his body in a sequence of slithering rectangular segments. "Go on," Sasuke permitted, dusting off his cloak and taking a step backward. "Explain yourself."

Catching his footing as Sasuke dropped him, the operative removed his mask by raising it up atop his head; it hardly fit properly anyhow. As Sasuke had expected, the man lurking beneath the porcelain visage was Sai, the artist whose style he had recognized both from Naruto's wedding and from the wall in Ino's flower shop. The splattered rat made of ink had been summoned in that same style. Sai's skin was as pasty as ever and his mouth was flat with a lack of emotional investment. His voice was a tad bit more robust without the flat-lipped mask in the way, but only slightly. "I stripped and cleaned the two for the sake of being thorough...and I discovered identical tattoos on each of their persons, each in the same location."

"Tattoos?" Sasuke asked, his interest earned. "Tattoos of what? Where were they?"

"They were tiny," Sai clarified with a little pinch of air between his gloved thumb and forefinger. His dark hair was combed to one side and kept short, easy to conceal behind the full shape of the mask he had pulled up to hang to one side of his head. "They looked like moles, at first...the details are difficult to discern. I would have never noticed them, had they not both been located on the inner right wrist. I would have thought they were birthmarks, but the two weren't related to one another."

"The inner right wrist..." Sasuke brought his hand up to brush his chin thoughtfully. "Thank you for the tip, Sai...but why come to me? Why not tell Kakashi?"

Sai narrowed his eyes. "I've been noticing strange things happening within the Anbu, Sasuke—I fear we may be compromised as an organization. The Sixth suspects the same, but there is little that he can do about it without tipping the rogues off to our awareness. For the sake of transparency, he prefers that they believe their movements remain hidden. It is best if we handle these sensitive matters _outside_ of the office—and out of earshot of the other 'trusted' bodyguards, if you understand what I'm saying."

Sasuke nodded. He _did_ understand. "You're telling me this, yet Kakashi isn't the one who ordered you to tag along behind me?"

Sai shook his head. "No, I made that decision on my own. I've heard about your midnight vigilante routine, and I grew curious." He pulled out a notepad, turning to a recent page. "I've kept notes of all your incidents—you haven't killed anybody, not even by accident. In fact, you tend toward letting them go free...why is that?"

Sasuke softened his hard stare, looking off into the distance. Shouting and banging could occasionally be heard in the rundown part of the village where he made his home; the crimes were still happening, but at least he could keep tabs on them. "It's not my place to decide who lives and who dies," he explained. "Frankly, I've seen the power of mercy thanks to Naruto Uzumaki. Give a man a second chance, and he might just surprise you with what he's capable of..."

Sai looked with particular focus upon Sasuke, showing a smile that wasn't fake. "Yes...yes, he just might." He folded his notebook closed and tucked it away again. "Will you become the Police Chief, Sasuke? Doing so will make it much easier for us to work with you."

"I don't know, _yet,"_ the sole survivor of his clan replied honestly. "Do you think I'm really the right choice?"

"Based on what you've shown me tonight...yes. I believe you could be." Sai nodded once, just enough to express his certainty. "I once read in a book that people will often change their opinion of something when faced with overwhelming evidence that contradicts what they once believed. You're not Madara, Sasuke. Take the job, do it well, and the people who distrust you will learn that fact for themselves soon enough."

"I haven't said _no_ , Sai," the reply was given after a pause, and with much thought. "But I also haven't said yes. Give me more time."

Sai gave a nod. "Very well. Please know that I am not the only one who hopes for you to take the position. Much of the village is maligned against you, Sasuke, but there are those of us who respect your recent rationality and stoicism. Never forget that you have supporters."

"Supporters, hmm? Do you mean people like Ino?" Sasuke asked about her with a defined purpose, specifically trying to provoke a flustered reaction from Sai.

The typically-reserved young artist blushed across the white face but otherwise didn't change his expression. "Yes...she is one of them. She believes in you like I do, and so do Naruto and Sakura. The Sixth does, as well, as I'm sure you know."

The Uchiha nodded, thinking to himself for a moment. "One more question—why did you try to run away when I called out to you just now?" Despite the information and support he had been offered, Sasuke was skeptical of the man who had been skulking around him for almost half the day.

"You caught me by surprise when you destroyed my artwork. I hadn't expected to be discovered so soon, and I didn't want to face you until I knew for sure what the matching tattoos were meant to symbolize. I had intended to draw a larger version within my sketchpad to show to you, but the original work is too shoddy; the details aren't as precise as I'd like. Perhaps with your Sharingan you would be able to see the symbols more clearly than I can," Sai suggested.

"Do you still have the evidence with you?" Sasuke asked, peering toward the partition of Sai's robe that held a row of scrolls near the thigh.

"No, I deposited them with the morgue, as ordered by the Hokage." Sai looked to the side, avoiding eye contact. "There's a chance that they have already been destroyed by infiltrators in order to prevent us from getting a second look."

Sasuke grunted quietly. "Right, a _chance_...do me a favor: Go see if you can get your hands on them again."

"Right away, _Chief_." Sai answered with closed eyes and a smirk, intentionally trying to invoke some sense of longing in Sasuke by using the title he hadn't yet agreed to take.

"Don't call me that," the embattled Uchiha asserted, but the preemptive application of the word had its intended effect. Hearing the title felt good, and reminded him of better days when his father was respected and feared by the village. Also, being involved in a real way with the investigation was exactly the kind of palpable impact Sasuke had been looking to have. But still, there were a dozen reasons not to take the job—primary among them being the tainted history of the Military Police Force and its involvement with the Uchiha Clan's downfall. But...maybe things were different, now. Maybe the same mistakes wouldn't be made twice. Sasuke caught himself feeling optimistic about the future.

Sai didn't say another word, and after bringing his mask back down over his face and creating a hand seal he tried his teleportation technique again. This time, Sasuke didn't stop him, and he was allowed to vanish with the swirling rings of ink. Left behind with a new sense of weight and purpose, Sasuke took a deep breath and grabbed a clump of his own hair to squeeze and brush between his in thought. He rounded the building again and returned to his apartment, opening the door and stepping inside. Despite it being a ratty dump with stained floors and a slight hint of mold in the air, the little room had started to grow on him. It was tiny and practical, just like he preferred. Shedding his belongings, including his clothes, he hopped in for a quick shower and exited into a rush of thoughts about Hinata Hyuuga.

He _should_ have been thinking about the more 'important' things of the day—Sakura's confession, Naruto's return, the tournament and his own role within it—and of course the kidnapping attempt plus its all-but-confirmed link to something larger and more deep-rooted than he expected. If some of the black ops soldiers could be compromised, then who _else_ might be? But no, those weren't his thoughts—his thoughts were almost entirely made up of idle curiosity about Hinata. Had she been able to have it out with Naruto? Did she make it home safely? Would she arrive for training the next morning? ...and was she thinking of him just like he was thinking of her?

Shaking his head and clearing his mind, he climbed into bed and laid immediately on his left side. Sleep came quickly. He dreamed again of his favorite violet.

* * *

 **Hope you liked it! This one ran a bit longer than I planned it out to be, but that's okay, I think, haha. Let me know what you thought!**


	23. Overreacting

**Enjoy! This one jumps around a bit more than usual; solid line breaks indicate the shift as always.  
**

* * *

Sasuke awoke in the morning to the sound of birds chirping in some far off place. The colorful feathers were nowhere near _his_ apartment, with its ratty exterior and lack of windows. The peaceful trilling was nothing more than a distant, hazy dream for the ones whose lives had been ruined by the Fourth War. The slums and the people living there were the direct result of the conflict; the devastation of the Juubi had brought about a substantial and predictable rise in the demand for land and housing, with very many people losing their homes and farmland, if not their lives outright. Real estate, especially inside of the Hidden Villages, had become incredibly profitable as a result. That was why so many new buildings were being erected behind the Hokage Monument along the cliffside.

The expansion wasn't entirely the responsibility of the Leaf Village, either: numerous outsiders had chipped in by donating their time, money, and materials to the construction effort. Sasuke had initially been inspired by the sight—he saw it as a sign of rebuilding; of moving forward. Though, for some odd and instinctive reason, ever since he had moved into his place in the slums he had grown suspicious of the growing skyscrapers; they were still the same beacons of hope as before, and their skeletons stood dauntingly along the horizon—they were only half-built, but no less meaningful because of it. They were the torch to light the future. So why did Sasuke now feel so uneasy when he looked upon them? His subconscious was possibly trying to tell him something, but the message was foggy and unclear.

Sasuke shook the unfinished thoughts out of his head and then pulled his rough sheets away to one side, getting out of bed. He dressed himself starting with the form-hugging black pants that lined the base of his outfit, then pulled on a faded, pale lilac-colored shirt made of thick material; its sleeves fell about halfway to the elbow, while also providing just enough coverage on his left side to conceal the rounded stump of his lost limb. He wrapped a sash around his waist, one that hung down to cover his thighs and hips, like he had gotten used to having. Next, he slung his sword's sheathe along his belt, allowing it to dangle across the small of his back, out of the way but still accessible with a quick reach. He looked down upon himself, then looked to the flimsy coat rack beside his door with a contemplative frown. While he used his teeth to pull a single leather glove over his right hand, covering from wrist to fingertip with a folded-over bottom, he thought about something Hinata had said to him: ' _You're still wearing that cloak...so it seems like you plan to travel far.'_

Sasuke, dressed and trimmed to be presentable, took a solid step toward the hanging black drape that would have completed his outfit. He reached his hand out to touch its hem, feeling the worn stitching down the edges. It had seen a lot of travel over the past few years, and he had gotten so used to wearing it that he hadn't even been able to clearly recall the last time he had gone outside without it. His impulses were telling him to put it on, but what if that drape was a part of why he wasn't trusted? Maybe Hinata was right—maybe the cloak _did_ make him seem like no more than a temporary resident. It was designed to protect flesh and clothing from wind, rain, sand, thorns, and any other sort of environmental hazard that a person might run into on a long journey. It wasn't meant to be worn _every_ day, especially in a place that was fair-weathered and widely considered to be safe. Part of him still wanted to wear it, but he didn't _need_ to wear it. He came to a conclusion: _If I leave it behind today, I might be able to make Hinata smile._

Sasuke pulled his hand away from the cloak and instead put it on the knob leading outside. He opened the door and felt the warm spring air hit his face and arms. The weather was luscious—he didn't need any protection from it, after all. He stepped outside without the cloak and pulled the door shut behind him.

* * *

"What do you _mean_ she already left for the day?" Kiba Inuzuka confrontationally growled at Ko, the man who had the misfortune of answering the visitor at the front gate of the Hyuuga District. "It's barely past dawn! Man, I really hope you're not _lying_ to me..." There was a sinister depth to his statement.

Ko didn't seem impressed, as people quite often didn't, by Kiba's threatening act. "Sorry, Kiba, but _I_ didn't see her go, either. Her younger sister, Lady Hanabi, is the one who told me that she had gone. We're not expecting her back home until late, either."

Kiba flexed his hands, intentionally making his fingers seem jagged all the way up until his carved fingernails ended in clawed tips. Despite his bark, he wasn't willing to bite and he eventually grumbled and backed down a bit, straightening his posture and dropping the act. He could see that Ko wasn't intimidated, so he pouted a little bit. "Well, could you at least do me a favor and find her with your Byakugan? There's something I've gotta talk to her about."

Ko sighed, leaning his forehead against the vertical bars that made up the closed gate. One of his hands gripped the metal for stability and he answered the request as if it had been made to him a hundred times before. "We of the Hyuuga Clan respect the privacy of the other villagers in Konoha; the Byakugan isn't a toy we use for spying on our brethren. If you want to find Lady Hinata, you're going to have to do it on your own."

Kiba huffed, folding his arms across his burly chest. Not only had his hair grown longer, but he had swollen out over the years, becoming quite stocky beneath his dark clothes. "Yeah, I guess I will..." He looked off to the side, regarding something just out of view from the gate, and he called out to his companion. "Oy, Akamaru! Let's go track down Hinata's scent!" A half-second later, the massive white dog with chocolate-dipped ears gave a single bark of agreement, standing up on all fours from his relaxed lounging to spring to Kiba's side. Ko was going to say something, but Kiba had already jumped onto Akamaru's back and sped off.

"That's...a _really_ _big_ dog..." Ko muttered to himself, rubbing the hair atop his head and stretching a yawn out from between his jaws. He didn't try to stop Kiba; it was too early to be dealing with so much enthusiasm, anyway. "Now, where'd that book go...?" he mumbled, rubbing his chin in thought, trying to retrace his route from the night before as he stepped away from the fence bordering the property.

* * *

Two fists collided with a shockwave of intensity, sending ripples through the grassy green fields that surrounded them. One was covered by a glove, the other one by a thick layer of cloth bandages—the two arms attached to those fists were trembling with effort, each one trying to overtake the other with brute strength. A male and female voice strained with grunts and groans, and the bubbling of a stream not far away was the only sound of nature that continued after the immense collision. The birds had flown away, the fish had stopped jumping, and the insects had been scared underground. The boom echoed off the trees in the nearby woods with enough force to blow a few leaves from the high branches. When the noise settled down, the two hands broke apart from one another.

" _Ahhh!_ Ouch, Sakura!" Naruto exclaimed, shaking his bandaged hand side to side as if trying to soothe the pain. "Ya didn't have to hit so hard, y'know..." He blew against the backs of his knuckles, really selling his reaction.

"Don't give me that," Sakura said with a confident smirk. "That hand is made of the First Hokage's cells, and even though it's attached to a bit of a _wimp_...it can take a lot worse than that." She was shaking her hand, too, but she was an awful lot less vocal about how much the impact had pained her. Naruto was even stronger than she had imagined, and he was _certainly_ holding back for her sake. "Besides, it wasn't _my_ idea to test my strength against yours, was it?"

Naruto flexed his fist, tightening the bandages with a pull of his other hand. "I was curious, that's all...you managed to hit Kaguya pretty hard, right?"

Sakura thought back to that moment. If she really concentrated, she could still clearly remember the feel of Kaguya Ootsutsuki's solid skull against her fist. It hurt then, just like it hurt now. "Well, I had a lot of help...she was distracted by you and Sasuke, plus Kakashi-sensei had given me some momentum to start with."

"Don't underestimate yourself, Sakura! With strength like that, I'll bet you're gonna win your tier of the tournament without any trouble at all!" Naruto gave a broad smile and a thumbs-up, clearly meaning what he said. "And I'll win against Sasuke, definitely! The two of us, husband and wife, can be champions together! Then we can share the title along with Konohamaru after he wins the beginners'tier!"

Sakura returned her husband's enthusiasm for the moment; the sun was still low in the sky, barely signifying the morning. "You're damn right! We're the strongest duo on all of Konoha!" She squeezed both of her fists in the air in front of each shoulder. She had been the one to insist on such an early beginning to their first training session. The night before, she had pretended to be asleep already by the time Naruto got home—she _had_ been planning to confess what she said to Sasuke, but when the moment came she realized that she didn't have the nerve to do it. Not only for her sake, but for Sasuke's too. The last thing she wanted was to give her husband a reason to reignite the genuine flame of the old rivalry. She didn't want to be caught in the middle of some godly feud—not _again_.

"Just promise to go easy on me for a while, okay Sakura? I didn't want to admit it to Sasuke yesterday, but I'm a little bit out of practice..." Naruto looked down to his fist. True, it didn't hurt as much as he let on that it did, but he could still feel a little bit of rust in his joints. He hadn't been forced to fight seriously in over three years, and while he _had_ still been training, he hadn't exactly felt _urgent_ about it. He already felt strong enough to be Hokage—his focus had turned back toward his love for Sakura, and his need to study the nuts and bolts of village operations.

Sakura stood a pace and a half away from her husband, and she nodded. "Sure, take all the time you need...just be careful that I don't surpass you while we're at it."

Naruto grinned. "If you keep growing at this rate, maybe you _will_ surpass me...and I can't let that happen! I'll just have to improve twice as fast!" They both pulled their fists back, and then simultaneously went in for another straight-up clash. There was a conversation they needed to have, but it could wait—it was time for them to share some exertion and improvement; moping about wasn't exactly productive.

* * *

Hinata was straining already and Sasuke hadn't even arrived yet. She had taken it upon herself to warm up, bending her body left and right and flexing her muscles one at a time to shake them free of nervousness. There was something different that morning—she had finally realized, with conscious thoughts, exactly how much Sasuke had been able to sway her mindset. While it _was_ for her own benefit and she wasn't explicitly _trying_ to impress Sasuke, she never would have properly confronted Naruto without his encouragement. She felt connected to the dark-haired man, yet there were questions she needed to ask him, and very many of them. The previous night had been such a thrill, such an unknown and exhilarating experience, that she had almost forgotten for the hundredth time that she barely knew anything about Sasuke aside from what was on the surface. It was okay, she told herself, because even just the surface was rather inviting. She knew her opinion conflicted with that of many others; she had clearly felt the fear in the air whenever she walked past a crowd with Sasuke nearby. He made her feel invisible, so he made for a good hiding place, but she had also felt insignificant when she was in _front_ of him. He had such a potent presence that he seemed to exert an intangible aura upon all who came within a village block of him. He made the air thick; entire crowds subconsciously held their breath whenever he brushed past.

But he wasn't there with her yet, and Hinata was panting breathlessly even so. She worried about exhausting herself too early, but she had an unbelievable amount of tension left in her after her brief rant at Naruto after her late dinner. She had gotten a lot of things off her chest, and she had even smiled at her crush before she turned to go home...but she wasn't completely sated. The anger had been allowed to bubble up, but it hadn't been fully emptied. No matter how much she had wanted to unleash everything all at once, she was still _herself._ She still hated to make another person feel sadness or guilt for her sake. Whether they deserved it or not, in her mind, was irrelevant.

First had been slow stretching, as always—but after that, she had devoted herself to raw strength training. Lately, she felt weak around the knees, wobbly in the shoulders and elbows. Maybe that was due to her nerves or maybe it was due to neglect; it didn't matter. She needed to get stronger regardless. She was positioned straight up, risen as a spire of black and violet amidst the sunrise-painted rubble. She was dressed tightly for the sake of training efficiency. She didn't want flapping sleeves or flailing hoods to get in her way.

While she was positioned as the sole standing tower, she was upside-down, her hands serving as feet for the sake of exercising herself. Her arms were bare and white, and her nails were unpainted and unpolished, caked with dirt even though she had started the day as fresh and clean as could be. She still felt some moisture left over in the terrain from the sudden rains the previous night. It had soaked into the powdered plaster of the Uchiha ruins, and the muddy result had clung to her fingers like hungry gray ants.

Her eyes were closed for the sake of keeping focus; if she lost her balance she could break a bone or worse. Her hair was hanging down, dirtied along the dark blue tips just like her fingers. She had been occasionally dipping her strands in the mud as part of her exercises. Trailing up further, following the curves of her poised, powerful body, one might see that her legs were struggling to remain upright. The cause of the growing tremors of fatigue could be found atop her bare heels, balanced precariously by a mixture of natural grace and some sticky chakra pulling from the bottoms of her feet: She was hoisting a boulder she had found among the wreckage. It was a thick, jagged concrete block, likely serving as a piece of a building's roof before it had come crashing down to join the sea of devastation. The weight was massive; a few hundred pounds, though a precise measurement was difficult to guess.

With that harsh weight upon her feet pressing down on the rest of her height, Hinata's wrists were receiving a great deal of pressure at the base, but she fought through the pain. She first bent at the elbows, lowering her hair once again into the muck below, not caring for her vanity in that moment. Lower, lower, and even lower she fell until she could bend at the neck and kiss the stones beneath her with uncolored lips. With her arms bent to a ninety degree angle, she followed through with a tilt of her legs, perfectly balanced and synchronized. The brick didn't even quiver, so stable were her movements when it mattered. A tiny pebble was balanced atop the highest corner of the mass, her personal indication of holding balance. Once her knees were bent and her core had tensed downward to give her entire body a solid flex, she reversed the motion—her legs lifted the concrete straight above, then her arms carried all that weight with delicate, mindful balance to become a spire again.

Again and again, she repeated the maneuver, seeking to burn off her frustrations before Sasuke had been able to see the stress in her brows. They weren't scheduled to train until noon, but she couldn't stomach the thought of staying at home while Hanabi and her father worked together, completely ignoring the former heiress. She loved her sister, and she loved her father, too—but she couldn't watch them spar together. It would only urge her to think about her old self—the girl who lost to Neji, the girl who allowed Naruto to ignore her feelings for years, the girl who was so weak that her father refused to allow her to fight against worthy opponents on behalf of her clan. She wasn't that girl anymore—she _was_ , in truth, but she didn't accept the fact as immutable. It was a long road to follow, but she had resolved that night in the rain to become stronger for her own sake. There was no more need to impress Naruto, or to impress her father, nor to impress Sasuke—though, despite her determined self-encouragement, she still _wanted_ to impress Sasuke. It was an entirely separate matter, though.

Sweat was running down her entire body, from ankles to thighs to stomach to chest to neck to forehead. It all culminated with drops from her chin or from her nose depending on the angle she was holding. The morning was humid, yet another after-effect of the flash flood, which made the trickling saltwater all the more uncomfortable as it refused to evaporate. She expected to have a lot of time before Sasuke showed up, but she had only been able to repeat her strenuous lifting a handful of times before she forced her eyelids open, blinking carefully to keep the sweat from getting behind her lids. When she looked forward, she saw an upside-down figure perched upon a nearby outcropping, a crag of wood that used to be a bookshelf but had become a longtime part of the topography. She was facing the sunset, and her eyes were inactive, so she couldn't see the person all that clearly.

She was startled by the silhouette, and the tremor that ran down her spine transferred to her hands, which caused her wrists to buckle and her body to start teetering. She gasped as the weighted boulder slipped off of her feet and the back of her shoulders hit the rough terrain after her arms gave way. Her legs tried to kick the rock away, but it had too much downward momentum already. Instead of trying to move it, she went to move herself, rolling against the ground and seeking to avoid having her head smashed by the approaching meteorite. It would have been a shameful way to go, she knew—trying too hard and then losing her balance. She had to assume that she wouldn't be the first one to have such an accident, though. That could have been _some_ consolation, but not much.

She got out of the way in time, then braced herself with hands over her head for the impact that would land just inches beside her. All she got as payoff for her dreadful anticipation was the sound of a tiny tap, then a solid trickle as if a small stone had replaced the massive one and settled with the rest. She opened her eyes and saw that the pebble she had positioned for the sake of measuring her balance _was_ the only thing that struck the ground. She turned her head back toward the silhouette to find that he wasn't just on the bookshelf anymore; he had placed a square shaped rock beneath himself, too. Only one person was capable of that kind of speed and displacement. "Sasuke..." she murmured, blushing with shame. She had just made a fool of herself in front of him. She wouldn't have been hurt even if the block had been allowed to land where it was headed, but still. She had _dropped_ it, and dropping it was bad.

"Hinata," Sasuke answered, kicking the edges of the concrete beneath him to test its density, standing up to full height and looking down at the sweating young woman with approval. "You're here early..."

She felt his gaze and all her composure fell away. Some men and women had little buttons all over them, both mental and physical, that could be pushed to turn them into mush. Hinata was like that, too—there were things that made her blush, whether spoken or not, but she usually had at least _some_ resolve. No, not in front of Sasuke. When he was looking at her the way he was, she was nothing but one gigantic button with the Uchiha's name written upon it. The attraction was primal; she saw in him a lot of things that she wanted to see as part of _herself_ , too. "Y-yeah," she stuttered, turning to sit up from her mangled position on the ground and dust herself off. With the moisture in the air and on her clothes, she only succeeded in smearing the pale dirt further across her shirt and pants. "You are, too..." she said, as if trying to turn the attention away from her. Sasuke wasn't supposed to be there yet, either.

"Would you like to begin right away?" Sasuke asked, shrouded in shadows by the bright light of the sun behind his shoulder. "Or do you need a break?" He tilted his head down to look at the weight she had been lifting.

Hinata allowed herself to breathe again. "I'd like a few minutes," she confessed. There was no point in acting tough in front of a guy like Sasuke. He could see all the way through her, down to the tiniest muscle twitch.

"I didn't mean to startle you," Sasuke spoke, sounding as warm as the pastel colors in the sky looked. "You were doing very well until you opened your eyes."

"It wasn't your fault," the girl said, trying to avoid blaming him. Inwardly, she _did_ think she could have kept going a bit longer if not for the surprise, but she was almost to her limit either way. "I think I was pushing myself too hard."

A shrug came from the perch above. "Maybe..." Sasuke hopped down, landing beside where Hinata had sat upon her own knees. He crouched down next to her and took a lock of her hair between his fingers. The amount of dirty plaster she had gathered up reminded him of a well-used paintbrush. "How many times did you lift it?"

She gulped as he touched her hair, even though it didn't feel especially romantic, or anything. He was just examining the accumulated muck, nothing else. That didn't stop Hinata from letting her mind run wild with possibilities. She almost forgot that he had asked her a question. "Uh...I don't know, I wasn't counting...at least thirty?"

Sasuke gave a smirk. "Thirty...that's not bad. Why did you do it? Do you think our training should be focused on something other than pure technique?"

Hinata shrugged, feeling like she was being interrogated. She had the impression that Sasuke thought she was disrespecting his regimen. "N-no, I think our training is going very well...I just needed to work off some tension before we got started later on. I'm sorry if I've gone against your intentions..."

"Don't apologize so much, Hinata." Sasuke waved his hand dismissively. "If there's something you want to do, then do it. Don't wait for permission—not from me nor anyone else. I'm here to help you, not control you."

"Right, but...why is that, anyway? Why did you agree to help me?" Hinata asked, keeping her eyes away from him. She didn't look at the ground, though—he had told her not to do that, and she thought it was good advice. She kept her face forward, pointing into the dim sunlight. It would get brighter over time, but it was easy to behold as it hung behind the treeline far beyond the crumpled ruins, even further past the fence of the sunken village. "You didn't hesitate...and you you didn't even wait for me to ask. How did you know I wanted you to train me, and why are you so willing to do it?"

"That's a strange question," Sasuke said tentatively. Strange indeed, as even he still didn't know the correct answer. He gave an easy one, a vague one that wasn't a lie but not the entire truth, either: "It felt like the right thing to do, Hinata. Why? Do you regret coming to me?"

She stiffened. _Regret? No, not at all._ She answered him aloud with as much honesty as she could give without going too far with her appreciation: "I've just been wondering why you always seem so nice to _me_ , while everybody else tells me nothing but terrible things about you...It's like you treat me differently than you do everyone else." She looked at him. He looked at her. There was silence for a long while and the shadows along the landscape grew shorter beneath the changing vantage of the sun.

When Sasuke formed an answer, it was an unsatisfying one for both parties. "I've been trying to figure that out, too. Maybe the reason is simple, or maybe it's complicated. All I know for sure is that I heard you crying during the wedding party, and I decided that I couldn't let it continue. Everything since that moment has just...happened on its own."

Hinata remembered that moment well. She had been wearing a silky, fine purple dress, dark enough to blend in with the night. She had wanted to cry forever, but it wasn't possible—a stranger came up behind her in the middle of her sorrow. He said _'hey, are you alright?'_ with such ease as to seem unremarkable. Caring, but not committed. Curiosity, and nothing else. The stranger hadn't even known her name, even after she recognized him. It was an awkward little conversation they shared, but it was an enjoyable one. Was that really all it took? A few kind words at a lonely moment? How long could such an infatuation last?

Hinata finally noticed something about her training companion after her nerves rattled into a state of calm and her eyes were wiped free of salty, stinging sweat: "Sasuke, where's your cloak?" It was gone, nowhere to be seen, and she barely recognized his physique without it—he remained stern and well built, tall and imposing...but the danger of him seemed lessened. The cloak had hidden so much of him—and when a man had a lot to hide, there was an instinctive reaction to fear him and the secrets he kept. "Did you lose it?"

Sasuke looked down to himself with a soft hum. "No, I've just decided that I won't be needing it in the village right now." He gave her a thankful glance, reading her tired expression with anticipation. "You were right, Hinata—when I was wearing it, I think it made me look like I was going somewhere...but I'm not. I've finally decided to take the seat that's been saved for me here in Konoha...and I won't be needing my coat in these warm days of spring."

There it was. There was the smile on Hinata's face, the twinkling brightness in her pale eyes; Sasuke felt satisfied by his choice to leave it behind. He felt relatively exposed by the absence of total coverage, but seeing the brightness in Hinata's eyes was enough to make the minor 'sacrifice' well worth it.

* * *

Kiba was on the hunt in the early morning streets—Akamaru was letting the wind flap his ears as he ran, enjoying himself like a dog always should. His eyes were closed and his nose was turned up; he was locked onto Hinata's scent and speeding along without pause. Kiba was holding onto tufts of fur above the canine's front shoulders, keeping a tight grip and squeezing his knees against his mount's haunches. There weren't many people in the streets, which made it a lot easier to navigate around tight spaces and alleys. From time to time, the ninja-trained hound would jump up the side of a building with a harsh thunk of weight, scurrying overhead as a shortcut.

"C'mon, Akamaru! She might be in trouble!" Kiba shouted as the pair landed on the stone road below a balcony which the dog used as a landing pad halfway down a vertical leap. Claws were leaving little scuffs and punctures, but there was no time to worry about that. They were sprinting fully down a wide open avenue when Akamaru suddenly gagged, coughing and hacking to try to clear his throat. He stopped running right on the spot and his back half lurched up and forward. Kiba was thrown off the hound's back, eating a face full of road and sliding a few inches further before reacting and springing off of one hand to put himself on two feet with nimble movements. He panicked and looked over his shoulder at his faithful companion. "Akamaru! Are you alright!?" He started to run over to his friend, but as he did, the dog stopped gagging after a final wheeze—then something came popping out from the inside of his mouth. A small, flying bug escaped and rose to the sky, fleeing its captivity with glistening-wet wings.

"A fly...?" Kiba questioned, squinting suspiciously and turning to regard a dark corner nearby. He had a funny feeling that—

"No, not quite," a low voice corrected from an alley without the sun's blessing. "It's a beetle. I apologize for the extreme measures, Kiba, but..." Shino said as he stepped out from the shadow and corrected the position of his goggles atop his nose.

"You coulda just said something...you really didn't have to gag poor Akamaru." Kiba was crouched by his pet's side; the oversized hound was rolled onto his back and getting a belly rub from his master.

"I _tried_ calling out to you. You passed by me at least three times." Shino was either _angry_ as he held up three fingers, or...entirely neutral. Maybe even happy. All his expressions were neatly hidden behind his high collar and the goggles that blocked his eyes, and the tone of his voice was...difficult.

"Three times...?" Kiba thought back, scratching a tattooed cheek. Come to think of it, he _did_ remember hearing a few odd noises to his left and right along the way, but he disregarded them as a trick of the wind. "I guess I didn't notice..."

Shino's eyebrow twitched slightly. "Of course you didn't. What's got you in such a hurry, anyway, Kiba?"

"I'm looking for Hinata. I heard some pretty disturbing rumors last night..." Kiba hushed his voice, cupping his mouth with one hand but keeping the other upon his full-grown pup's white, fluffy tummy.

"Rumors?" Shino asked with curiosity. His goggles reflected a strand of orange light courtesy of the sun as it peeked over the nearby buildings. "Like what?"

"I heard she was with Sasuke again..." Kiba revealed, sharing his 'secret' with his teammate. "I went to go check on her at the house this moring, but she wasn't there...Ko told _me_ that Hanabi told _him_ that Hinata left early today for some reason. I'm kind of wondering if that's just a coverup. In fact, I'm thinking she never made it home last night."

Shino sighed, tucking his hands into the pockets of his heavy coat. The warm weather didn't seem to bug him. "I think you're jumping to conclusions, Kiba."

"Yeah, you _would_ say that...What do you think of Sasuke, anyhow? I don't think I ever asked you." Kiba finally ended his rubbing of the canine, standing up to face Shino more completely. He snarled and bared his fangs at the thought of the newly-returned Uchiha. "I really don't trust the guy...especially not around Hinata."

"Hinata can take care of herself, Kiba. You're overreacting." Shino was straightforward, as usual. "The way I see it, Sasuke has changed for the better. Why don't you give him a chance?"

"Changed for the better? C'mon, Shino, you can't see through his act? He's always walked around like he's so damn much _better_ than the rest of us, and now we're supposed to think he'll just fit back in? _Hell_ no! He's here for a reason—probably to get rid of Naruto while he's asleep, then take over the world or something..."

"He showed up for the wedding, Kiba. I don't think _that_ was just an act. Couldn't you see how much it affected him?" Shino seemed a little bit guarded before he made his next snip, tilting his head down and keeping a close eye on his teammate's response to it. "You may have been too drunk to notice, though."

Kiba rolled his eyes. "Hey, don't give me that. I was celebrating—Naruto's wedding was great, right? Besides, I _do_ remember seeing Sasuke there. In fact I remember having a bit of trouble with him. I could smell that he was up to no good..."

Shino might have rolled his eyes, too, but it was impossible to tell. "What _I_ remember is that the Hokage had to step in and save you from your own aggressive behavior..."

Kiba spat on the ground, wiping his mouth with a shirt sleeve and speaking with a wild smirk over his arm. "We'll see about that...I'm gonna show Sasuke how much I've improved, come the next time I see him." He flexed his hands like before, showing the rugged strength in his fingers.

"That's why I'm here, actually; I want to talk you out of confronting Sasuke. You may not admit it, but he's far too strong for you." Shino stated with academic certainty, as if it were the solution to a first-year academy student's math problem. "Trying to start trouble with him will end poorly for you."

"What makes you think he's stronger than me, anyway? You were asleep in the dream with the rest of us when he fought Naruto. I think Sasuke's power is _way_ overstated. Just a bunch of bedtime stories and myths. Anyway, if you don't let me go after him _now_ , I'll just have to prove I can beat him in the tournament."

"The tournament...? Don't tell me you entered the—"

"That's right!" Kiba cut Shino off. "I'm gonna be the winner of the Exceptional Tier, Shino! Take a good look, because this might be the last time you ever get to see me without a horde of fans following me around the village all day long." He had a cocky smirk, but it wasn't a hollow one—he honestly seemed to believe his own hype.

"I don't meant to dash your hopes, Kiba, but...The Fifth Kazekage, Gaara, is also entered into that tier. As well as the Fourth Raikage and Hiashi Hyuuga. Even if you manage to take out Sasuke, do you think you're stronger than all of _them_?" Shino was trying to cut through the delusion, but Kiba's head was classically thick.

"Bah, you can be a coward all you want, Shino, but I'm not gonna back down from a challenge. Naruto would face everybody head-on and come out ahead on guts alone!" Kiba flexed his arm, pointing his thumb at his face. His eyes were sharpened and his cheeks were puffed up with enthusiasm.

"I see there's no talking you out of it. If that's how it is, then save it for the tournament, Kiba. I'll go on ahead and find Hinata; you go home and train. If you really intend to defeat Sasuke, you're going to need to improve a lot more than you already have." Shino knew how hopeless Kiba's ambitions were, but he also knew how hopeless it would have been to try and talk his bullheaded partner out of going through with them.

"Maybe you're just underestimating me, Shino," Kiba said with a challenging grin. "Why don't we have a match right here, and I'll show you my new trick?"

Shino sighed. "That won't be necessary. I'll wait for the tournament as well." He turned his back, beginning to walk away. "Go home, Kiba. Forget about Sasuke and Hinata for now."

"Hey, what do you mean by _that_? I thought you weren't even going to _enter_ the tournament...aren't you busy preparing to be an Academy instructor!?" Kiba raised a fist, trying to call the bug-man back over. "Hey, Shino! Get back here!"

Shino pretended not to hear the call, instead lifting his hood over his head and wandering off. Hopefully he had done enough to deter Kiba from aggressively tracking Sasuke down—because unlike his hotheaded comrade, he knew a little bit about what was going on. His bugs made excellent spies, and although he hadn't ever been able to sneak one close to Sasuke without having it swatted from the sky, he _had_ been able to track Hinata without her noticing—as long as she left her Byakugan off. At best, he got bits and pieces, but he had seen enough to know that she was in no danger from Sasuke. Not _yet_ , that was to say. Rather than find Hinata like he said he would, his next order of business was to fill out a tournament application. He had a new goal in mind.

* * *

"Your name wasn't on the original list of applicants, Shino," Kakashi remarked as he combed through a stack of files. As always, he was busily working at his desk. Shizune, though, had finally run out of steam and was taking a nap in a chair to the left of him; her head was lulled to the side peacefully and her arms were politely folded in her lap as she breathed quietly. Kakashi peered up at his darkly-bespectacled visitor. "What made you change your mind?"

"There's actually a very specific condition to my entry..." Shino said as he hastily scrawled out a form with his name upon it. Upon the line for the tier entry, he wrote 'Exceptional.' "I'd like to face Kiba Inuzuka in the first round. If that's too unorthodox, I will accept your decision, but in that case, I will withdraw my position."

"No, no...that's fine, actually. We're trying to set up fair fights as best we can, at least to begin with, and I was admittedly having a bit of _trouble_ finding a good first match for Kiba." Kakashi straightened a pile of paperwork, then dropped it into the 'out' tray, ready to be processed by the relevant departments. "He's got a lot of pep—maybe too much, but that's just the Will of Fire burning within him, don't you agree?"

Shino gave a nod. "I agree, Lord Sixth, but a fire that burns too hot will eventually scorch its own fireplace." He finished etching his signature into the bottom of his form, then passed it to Kakashi over the desk. "If I might ask...what do you think of Sasuke's return? Can we trust him?"

Kakashi shrugged his shoulders. He had a 'personal' answer, and a 'Hokage' answer to that question. He opted to give the latter—Shino was a respected member of the village, but he wasn't exactly in Kakashi's inner circle. "Time will tell. Thus far, he has been playing nice. We're just hoping that he continues on that course." He decided not to mention the job offer; a few people knew about it. Shizune, of course, as well as a few of the most steadfast among the ANBU Black Ops. Kakashi knew that his position was tenuous at best; most Kages in all five of the great villages ended up dying in battle, or to assassination. If that were to happen, he wanted there to be a few people who could vouch for the young Uchiha's position. Kakashi had said that there was no time limit on the offer, and he meant it. "The one thing I _do_ know, Shino," Kakashi said after a pause, "is that Sasuke is a valuable part of this village's future. Try not to make him feel alienated, regardless of whether or not you think he deserves it, alright?"

Shino gave a nod, tucking his hands away. "Of course, Lord Sixth. He doesn't seem to be hurting anybody...but Kiba distrusts him greatly. I'd worry more about my teammate than about Sasuke Uchiha...if anybody ends up doing something they regret in all this, it's probably going to be Kiba."

"Ahh," Kakashi hummed with understanding. "That's why you want to face him first? To keep him away from Sasuke?"

Shino nodded. "That's right. There are two possible outcomes—I defeat him and spare him the humiliation of a more one-sided match, or he defeats me and earns some respect for passing the first round of the tier before being eliminated."

"You're a good teammate, Shino. If I happen to forget, you should remind me of this decision in the future when I'm considering Jonin promotions." Kakashi made a small note on a piece of paper at his side, probably to that very effect. "Was there anything else you needed from me?"

Shino shook his head 'no,' turning to go and saying his farewell: "Thank you, Lord Sixth. I'll be seeing you again soon, I hope."

"Always a pleasure," Kakashi mumbled through his mask as his guest saw himself out. He hadn't seen the light of day from the outside of his office for quite some time—the tournament planning was sucking up quite a bit of what used to be his free time, and the recent incident with Hanabi Hyuuga was poised to take up the _rest_ of it. The Hokage's work was never done, no matter how happy the villagers seemed to be on the surface. If they could see just beneath the shining but paper-thin exterior of peace, they would see quite a bit of duct tape and melting glue; all it would take was one good thump for the whole illusion of stability to come crashing down. It was Kakashi's job to keep that from happening—and after three years as Hokage, he was at last beginning to feel overwhelmed.

* * *

 **I hope you all liked this one! Have another helping of my deepest thanks for all the views, reviews, follows, favorites, and messages. I say it a lot, but it bears an infinite number of repetitions: I love every single one of you guys, and I'm always excited to post a new chapter and see what you think of it! There's quite a bit more SasuHina I've got planned to come in the next couple of chapters, with a healthy dash of NaruSaku as well. As always, there's more on the way as soon as I can get it written, so keep an eye out (or just follow the story for timely email updates)!**


	24. Trust

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Shino had come and gone, but Kakashi's stream of guests was only getting started. An hour or so later, after fourteen other interruptions, Kiba showed his face with a typical snarl. The doors were opened for him by the posted guards, and he barged in with a singular purpose. Akamaru came in as well, but at least the oversized pooch was on his best behavior compared to his master—he sat beside the door and wagged his tail in an empty space, panting obliviously while looking around. Kiba approached the desk all the way and made a brash declaration. "Lord Sixth, we need to have a talk about Sasuke."

Kakashi pretended to look surprised, though under his mask his expression was entirely flat. He had been expecting Kiba; Shino usually served as a sort of harbinger for his teammate's impulsive actions. The Hokage had dealt with quite a few of the Inuzuka hothead's temper tantrums, and this one was going to be no different. The silver-haired Kage opened with a customary greeting, then a rather sly remark to take some of the steam off of his visitor's top. "Good morning, Kiba. Are you looking for Sasuke so that you can apologize for your outburst at the wedding?"

"Ouburst...?" Kiba's finger had been raised like he had every intention of giving off a piece of his mind, but the way he was intercepted took him down a notch. His anger was replaced with a rampant need for self-justification. "Hey, don't even act like he didn't deserve it! The last person anybody wanted to see there was a guy like _him_..."

Kakashi nodded, shuffling through a few papers to remind his complaining guest that there were important things to be done. "You may not have been the only one who thought so, but he was invited by Naruto and Sakura. If you have a problem with that, maybe you should bring it to _their_ attention. Since I'm not looking to interfere with who the villagers are allowed to invite to their own personal weddings, I don't think there's much for me to say on the matter. Is there anything _else_ I can help you with?"

"Forget about the wedding, Lord Sixth!" Kiba wanted to spit, but he showed respect for the Hokage's office and swallowed it down. "I'm here because I think Sasuke is getting too close to Hinata. I'm worried about what's gonna happen to her..."

"Is this about last night?" Kakashi asked for the sake of clarification—he knew exactly what it was about, and he had nothing to hide about it. Still, he didn't want to seem too presumptuous. "Sasuke and Hinata were seen at _Akimichi's Ribs, Beans, and Chips._ Naruto and Sakura were with them, too. Based on your tone, I'm guessing that you think that's inappropriate in some way?"

Kiba gave a harsh nod. "That's right—I don't want that Uchiha reject thinking he can just do whatever he wants, with _who_ ever he wants. You should tell him to keep to himself...in fact, you ought to just tell him to leave for good."

" _Kiba_..." Kakashi began with an assertive tone, silencing any further vitriol. "I won't tolerate that sort of talk in my office. He's _not_ going to be forced out or marginalized; Sasuke is a member of Konoha, just like you and I. He has the same rights as we do."

"He's _not_ like us, though...we've never _betrayed our friends_." Kiba's fist was clenched hard.

"Don't make assumptions about me," Kakashi rebutted coldly. It sounded like a warning. After a momentary silence to let the statement sink in, he resumed a neutral, almost-cheerful disposition. "At any rate, Hinata is allowed to make her own decisions. The dinner last night was arranged in front of my eyes, and there was nothing unusual about it—Sasuke was here about a mission, and Hinata was here to clarify a detail on her tournament entry. Naruto and Sakura came together to enter the contest, too. They all happened to arrive within a few minutes of one another, and Naruto invited Sasuke and Hinata to dinner— _separately_. They both agreed. You're aware that they're both friends of Naruto's and Sakura's, right?"

"Well, yeah, but..." Kiba felt his anger deflating under the stability of the Hokage's glare. He _could have_ ranted for an hour, but Kakashi wasn't having it. _Playing favorites with Sasuke, as usual,_ Kiba thought to himself.

"Don't get so worked up, Kiba. Even if you don't trust Sasuke, you can trust Naruto's judgement. If not, then you're just going to have to learn to accept that Sasuke is welcome in this village, and that's the end of the discussion. It's his _home_ , after all. If you'd talk to him without that snarl at the corner of your mouth, you might even find that you have some things in common with him." Kakashi looked to Shizune, who had just returned from a paperwork-fetching errand. She slinked through the door and stayed to the edges of the room, stopping for a moment to give Akamaru a pat on the head with her free hand. She waved to Kiba with a sincere smile before giving her boss a fresh load of work to do. With that new burden laid in front of him, Kakashi got to the point: "In other words...you're an _adult_. Please handle it like one."

Kiba bit back his retort. Although he didn't like it, he knew his place well enough to cut his losses. "As you say, Lord Sixth," he said begrudgingly from behind clenched teeth. He hadn't wiped the snarl off his face, but he had at least gotten rid of some of his anger, even if it had to be squashed out by the village head. He had regrets about seeing Kakashi, in retrospect—now, if he bothered Sasuke, he would be acting in direct defiance of the Hokage's wishes. He had put himself into a disadvantageous position, but there was little he could do. "Thank you for your time...c'mon, Akamaru." Kiba left the room with his partner in tow, mumbling something subversive to himself along the way.

"What was that all about?" Shizune pondered after the door had thunked shut.

"I'll give you one guess," Kakashi replied nonchalantly as he leafed through the latest bundle of tasks. Construction permits and spending reports, mostly. A lot of them only required his stamp of approval, but as an attentive politician, Kakashi took the time to read through every file that passed over his desk. That was probably why he rarely got any sleep at night.

"Ohhh..." Shizune replied, taking her seat beside Kakashi and dipping his stamp in ink, making it ready for his use. "Sasuke..." She snickered, giving her beloved leader a wry smirk. "So...do you think Kiba's getting jealous?"

Kakashi nodded without hesitation. "Absolutely...but don't worry about him. He's stubborn, but he'll get over it." He cracked his knuckles with one fluid motion, then reached for the handle of his specialized stamp. The first of the new building permit applications had been read, and he approved of its location and purpose. The stamp was applied with red ink, and the process began all over again. Between the paperwork and his regular appointments with dissatisfied villagers, his work was seemingly never finished.

* * *

Hinata laid panting on her back with her arms spread wide and her mouth gaped open to suck in as much air as possible. She had been given a short while to rest herself after her unofficial warmup, but despite their original schedule, Sasuke had insisted on beginning _long_ before noon since they both happened to arrive early. The day's heat was still mild, and there was even a cool morning breeze weaving over the destroyed landscape. Despite the pleasant atmosphere, the movements of the sparring had been fierce enough to burn the Hyuuga girl up inside. The training session had started a few hours ago, and Sasuke was showing no restraint; his sword was still sheathed and his movements were still precisely bubbled around Hinata's capabilities, but she was being pushed as far as her limits could take her. After being defeated once more in their skirmish, the young woman swallowed one last lungful of air before springing back onto both feet and holding her arms ready. "I'm prepared!" she called to Sasuke, and he came at her as expected.

Hinata's Byakugan was active and observant. She not only wanted to see Sasuke coming, but she also had a strange feeling that she was being watched—or maybe it was just that somebody was _looking_ for her. She felt paranoia creeping into her muscles and winding tightly around her bones, restricting the flow of her blood and slowing her movements down. During a moment of hesitation, Sasuke's blunt sheathe slapped against her shoulder during a routine swing, and the sharp sting caused Hinata's eyes to wince shut as she took a tumble backward, clutching her slight wound. "Ow..." she murmured to herself, trying to understate how much it had actually hurt. _Yet he's still holding so much back,_ she reminded herself. Every time she tried to get a grasp on just how strong Sasuke was, she was floored by even the most basic levels of his skill. "Sorr—" she had started to apologize to Sasuke, but she caught herself just before the word finished. No more apologizing—she was through asking for forgiveness. Things were the way they were and she wasn't going to waste more time saying sorry for simple actions. A mistake was a mistake. Learn from it, but don't dwell on it. She gave her shoulder one more rub, then stood up on slightly-wobbled calves; it wasn't even noon and she was already fatigued. Sasuke was going a bit harder on her than usual, she thought.

"Something's bothering you again," Sasuke remarked as he took a short moment to assess Hinata's posture. His Sharingan twirled to life with an ominous red glow, and his pupils ran from the bottoms of his lids to the tops, getting a full look at his winner-in-training. "You're wasting a lot of energy on unnecessary movements."

Hinata nodded with only a little bit of hesitation. She felt sloppy, but how could she not? The previous day had been one of the longest ones of her life, and definitely one of the hardest since the war. Training in the morning, an attempted assassination on her sister in the afternoon, and a painful-yet-cathartic conflict with Naruto in the evening. On top of all that, she didn't sleep much in the night, either. She didn't have nightmares, but she was riding on her own afterburners. The anger that had bubbled up with Naruto was still seeping through, and it was making her restless. "I've got plenty of energy to waste today," Hinata reassured Sasuke as she readied herself. "Please, come at me again."

Sasuke did as he was invited to do, hoisting his covered blade and making a usual swing. He was being intentionally predictable; Hinata was getting stronger, and faster, and more attentive—but she was also finding complacency in the sameness of their training, along with a little bit of something else that had to be tested for. It started with horizontal slash level with the shoulders; she leaned backward at the waist to let it pass by in front of her neck. The next one was a thrust toward the stomach; she turned herself to the side and pulled her gut in with a suck of air to let it hiss by. A second thrust was pointed to the other side; she pushed her toned gut out, letting the weapon thread across the small of her back. That was when she countered the attack by thrusting her hips backward and knocking the blunted sword off its course. With Sasuke's arm diverted by her motion, she dropped down for a sweeping kick toward his ankles during the distraction. Child's play, as usual. Her target jumped six inches off the ground to let Hinata's leg pass easily beneath the feet she had marked for assassination. Her second foot followed; she was turning herself on her hips while using her hands for balance. With neither attempt having any connection, Sasuke touched the ground again, soundlessly. Hinata crunched her core while vulnerable against the stones, pulling her legs back and away, and then she launched herself backward, landing on her heels and taking a few steps side to side in order to steady herself.

The time came for Sasuke to change the routine. Simple exchanges in melee range weren't going to give the girl much to improve upon, as she was already a close-range specialist. It was time for the test; a very _specialized_ test. Sasuke laid down his weapon and raised his hand in front of his face, the pointer and middle fingers were upright with the others tucked in his palm. "Be ready for your opponent to change strategies at any time," Sasuke lectured toward Hinata. She was already charging in for another skirmish, but she slowed when she saw Sasuke's hand begin to rotate through a variety of seals. That is, she saw bits and pieces—his fingers moved too quickly for her to track in any fine detail. Besides—one-handed seals weren't exactly easy to interpret by sight. By the time she even realized that he was forming ninjutsu, his preparations were already complete and his fingers were pinched in front of his mouth.

Flames came launching from his lips as he exhaled mightily. The relaxing morning sun was suddenly dwarfed by a towering inferno, one that seemed to rise from the ground beneath and eclipsed the sky in front of Hinata's eyes. The noise was deafening; the flames were consuming all the oxygen of the region and burning it with purpose as they drew instantaneously close to Hinata. There was nothing she could do to avoid it; it was here, there, and everywhere, and the heat of the encroaching blast dried all the sweat off of her skin with steaming severity. She raised her arms across her face as a final hope for defense. Just as the orange-yellow mass should have engulfed her, it dissipated as if it had never existed to begin with. Little cinders fell to the ground, and the stones beneath were badly blackened to prove that it had indeed been real, but the temperature had already stabilized again as cool air rushed to fill the emptied gap. Hinata trembled and brought her crossed arms down, keeping a defensive backward lean as she peered as Sasuke. Lines of heat distortion still lingered in the air between them. Smoke rose from the burnt ruins, but she saw through it with her Byakugan to see Sasuke's imposing figure. She felt frightened, but it was surely only a leftover instinct. She knew deep down that he wouldn't have killed her just like _that_...right? She had no doubt that if the flames had gotten any closer, the frontal heat alone would have sucked her dry and scorched her irreversibly. It was difficult for her to think clearly after such a close call.

"Tell me, Hinata...if I hadn't stopped the fire in time, what do you suppose would have happened to you?" Sasuke took a moment to calmly retrieve his sword from where he had dropped it, twirling it in his hand to sate his urge to make things happen. "Would you have burned where you stood without putting up a fight?"

Hinata was panting, trying to mull over her possible responses. Was it a trick question? From where _she_ stood, Sasuke should have known that the fire was too big, too fast—she had no hope of avoiding it, even if she had seen it coming from a mile away. "I don't know what would have happened..." she confessed through a ragged breath, abandoning her cowering posture to stand up with square shoulders. Her sweat was starting to bead again already. "Why did you _do_ that?"

"For two reasons. First, to get your attention," he answered, looking toward her with a steely, steadfast glare. "You're thinking too much about things that have nothing to do with your training. Save those thoughts for later."

"I _can't_ ," Hinata said honestly. She had the urge to apologize again, but she choked it back down. "My sister was nearly killed yesterday..."

Sasuke shook his head. "No, she wasn't. She handled herself perfectly—there wasn't a scratch on her, and that's because she knew to clear her head before trying to fight for her life. If you want to be strong, you'll need to separate your combat instincts from your regular emotions."

"But isn't that why Hanabi killed those men?" Hinata slackened her expression, letting her lips fall to a neutral frown. "She shut off her emotions. She didn't see them as people...just targets. It's like she became some kind of animal, killing to survive...but that's not who she _really_ is. My sister isn't a monster." She swallowed with nervousness, turning her head away. "I don't _want_ to be the way she is...I don't want to lose myself when I fight."

"Then she will always defeat you...and so will Sakura, as well as many other people who you're going to have to beat in order to win the tournament." Sasuke placed his sword along his belt again, loosening the tie that kept it in the sheathe, while also binding it back to his waist.

"I don't think that's true, Sasuke. I can win against her, I know I can...and against Sakura, too." Hinata ran her tongue across her lower lip; she tasted a bit of blood, but it was dried up.

Sasuke didn't seem to buy the confident act she was putting on. His eyes were still gleaming and fierce, and he could see every detail of her shaking. There was no weight behind her words; she was just trying to put on a show that would appease her trainer. "Relax, Hinata. The tournament isn't here yet. At any rate, we're not fighting right now...so there's a question I'd like to ask." His already-serious tone became even more so. "Did you speak with Naruto again last night?"

Hinata nodded with a sense of accomplishment. "Yes...I did."

"Did you say everything you wanted to say? Were you satisfied with his responses?" Sasuke narrowed his gaze, looking at her closely with burning eyes. He was watching for dishonesty—but he was also taking mental notes, as always. Even as he seemed to be picking her apart, he was also learning new, mundane things about the way she stood, the way she moved. It was all fascinating to him. "Do you think you could face him with your chin up if he were to come here right now?"

"I said a lot of what I wanted to say, yeah, but...I haven't forgiven him yet, so no, I'm not _satisfied_. I told him I need more time before I'll know for sure if I even _can_ forgive him." She clutched her upper arm and nibbled her lower lip. "He knew how I felt all along, Sasuke. He never acknowledged it before, but he _knew_ it...And he told me that he had wanted me to get over him on my own." She closed her eyes and bent her knees, falling down to sit with her rear on her heels. "It's like he doesn't really know me at all...not the way I thought he did."

"Naruto is more perceptive than most, but he can miss the obvious if you let him get away with it..." Sasuke watched Hinata crumble while her hands covered her face. She wasn't crying, but she was destitute. She wanted Naruto's love; his understanding. But she didn't have it, and she never would. Sasuke saw things as they were, and through her sorrow he was coming to realize the hopelessness of the situation around Sakura's declaration in the same way. Sakura claimed to still be in love with him, and he _thought_ he was still in love with Sakura, as well. But what _was_ love? A chemical reaction in the brain, some work of hormones and bad impulses? Was it something mystical and ethereal? Did it have a mind of its own? Was it a spirit that haunted individuals on an arbitrary basis just to see what might happen? Or was it nothing at all?

"Sasuke...you said that you forgave your brother, didn't you?" For fear of having some sort of depressed relapse, Hinata found something else to latch onto. There was too much pain to feel while thinking about Naruto, but he had given her a valuable nugget of information—the name 'Itachi'. "And...you said it was because you remembered having good times with him when you were younger, right?"

Sasuke took a gaurded step backward, but his overall stature didn't change much. He was still upright with his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. "That's right. Holding a grudge against a dead man isn't going to do any good, regardless." He cursed himself for his openness in the past. That girl's wide eyes had urged so many things out of his mouth, the beginnings of things that he wasn't ready to reveal. Why couldn't he have just closed his mouth that night? It was too late to take it back, but he could close his mouth _now._ "Anyway, I'd rather not talk about it."

Hinata had more questions—she wasn't even _nearly_ satisfied. She put Sasuke's 'lesson' from the night before to good use. She wasn't going to let the subject go until she was appeased by his answer. "Tell me more about him. Do you know why Naruto might call him an inspiration?"

Sasuke's chin pulled up and his mouth flattened. Neither a frown nor a smile; he was too conflicted to settle on one thing. His eyes narrowed and he felt a twitch of discontent. _That blabbermouth,_ Sasuke scolded silently before acting surprised:" _Naruto_ said that?"

Hinata nodded sheepishly. She felt like she was on new ground, crunchy and unstable under her feet as if formed by recently frozen ice. She didn't want to anger Sasuke, but she wanted to _know_. "He acted like it was a slip of his tongue, but...I just wondered how Naruto would have used _that_ name by accident. It's unique, isn't it? What do you think it meant, Sasuke?"

Hinata was pressing him, but there was no way she could win against the master. She still had far too much to learn about asserting herself. Sasuke, conversely, had spent most of his life holding things in, and he had done it with brute force more often than not. He gave her his final answer: "It doesn't matter what I think; I said I don't want to talk about my brother. _Leave it be_." The finality of it was harsh; he never raised his voice, but he added a firmness that was chilling. Threatening. The way he looked at Hinata made her instantly regret pushing the issue. But at the same time, it tipped her off—there _must_ have been more to the story. While Sasuke was getting better at reading her, she was getting decent at reading him in return. Though, with that certainty in his tone there was no room left for argument that day. She took things as they were, and she gulped.

"Alright...I won't say his name again." She backed down, but Sasuke was still staring at her. He studied her in silence, and she blushed. Her hand raised to play with her hair, paying full attention to her own hand in order to avoid eye contact. As she was analyzed, she felt warmer than the fireball that had started the conversation. Whether he was being cross with her or not, she couldn't hold herself still beneath his attention. She stood up gradually, quickly changing the subject back to the previous one: "So you don't think I'll be able to win unless I forsake myself? I thought you had faith in my abilities."

Sasuke saw that the storm had passed, at least for the moment. It wasn't the time nor the place for the truth about Itachi—for all the trust he wanted to place in that girl, she was still essentially a stranger. A beautiful stranger with a genuinely bizarre and magnetic pull on him, but a stranger nonetheless. "I do have faith in your _combat_ _abilities_ , Hinata, but your mind isn't in the right place. Do you want to win, or do you want to trust people?" He pulled on the hilt of his weapon, sliding the long, blessed steel out of the black sheathe.

"I don't want to _change_. I just want to prove that I'm stronger than people think I am...but if I'm not good enough to do that without changing who I am, then maybe I'm not destined to win anyway." She lightly kicked at some rubble that was pooled at her feet. She felt like an unprepared kid giving a cop-out answer for why she didn't have her homework. She knew from the start that _something_ would have to change if she had any intentions of defeating Hanabi, Sakura, or any of her other friends in combat. That was why she had gone to Sasuke in the first place. It was also true, however, that she rather liked her own kindness. She liked appeasing people, making them smile. She didn't want to be somebody's opposition.

Sasuke sighed, pointing the sharp, naked tip of his sword in Hinata's direction. "I'll get right to the point, Hinata. You're strong, but you're too kind. I don't know everything about you, but I do know _that_ much." He took a step forward, bringing the sword closer to her. She froze in place; was it another test? "Isn't that why your father passed the duties of the heiress on to your sister? Because you're too _soft_ to be the Hyuuga Clan's head? Too trusting?"

"Y-yes," Hinata murmured, taking a slow step backward. The piercing edge was getting closer to her chest. "What are you doing, Sasuke?" She narrowed her eyes and raised a hand in careful deterrence. She put her palm against the cold side of the encroaching blade. She tried to push it aside, but she wasn't strong enough. She wasn't _nearly_ strong enough. It didn't even bend in the slightest of ways.

"Don't move," Sasuke replied, sliding the flat, blunt wall of steel forward across Hinata's skin while her fingers tried in vain to hold it at bay. "Do you trust me, Hinata?"

"N-not really," Hinata said instinctively. Sometimes she felt like she could trust him, but in that moment he scared her too much. She hadn't honestly _feared_ him before, beyond brief startles, but there she was at the end of his blade with no idea what was running through his head. She knew the stories—he was wild, unpredictable. Prone to violent impulses. She tried to take another step back, but her foot got caught in between a few wedges of rotting stone, perfectly shaped to mold inward and clamp her ankle beneath her sinking weight. "Well, I mean that I _shouldn't_ trust you...because I really don't know very much about you..." She tried to pry herself free of the stones beneath without breaking her gaze away from him, but just like Sasuke's sword, the heavy rocks wouldn't budge against her fingers nor the frantic pull of her leg. She felt completely impotent. The blade's slender point touched the center of her chest, and she halted. She could feel a sharp pinprick through the fabric of her shirt, and her chin was tucked down with terror. Her eyes focused on the sword. She could no longer move. "But..." she said after a long pause. "I _do_ trust you, whether I should or not."

"I see...then hold still," Sasuke whispered to her with perfect calm. The air was motionless, and there was total silence between them until he spoke again. "And I'll tell you a secret." He thrust his sword forward, and Hinata whimpered with the pain she felt...but then she came to the conclusion that she hadn't felt anything at all. She opened her eyes again, but even with the insight of her Byakugan, she couldn't explain the lack of sensation. She could see the sword going into her body so _clearly_. Sasuke gave a sigh, but there was a bit of a laugh within it. "There _was_ no fireball, and I'm not even holding my sword. You've been under my genjutsu since I first activated the Sharingan." He shook his head, and with a step backward, the illusion was dispelled—his sword rematerialized where he had dropped it earlier, still nicely sheathed and wrapped tight on the ground. The scorch marks across the stone were gone, and Hinata's foot was free. She had never actually been trapped to begin with.

"But..." Hinata began, squinting her eyes. The veins around her sockets were protruding, and she swore that she had been paying attention all along. She could see every detail of the world around her; there was a swarm of flies hovering a few yards above her head, but they didn't belong to Shino. She had already determined that. The broken ground beneath her feet stretched on for what felt like a mile, though it was a bit smaller than that. She had only a single blind spot, but it was pointed to some far off place in the sky. The Byakugan was said to be able to see through any genjutsu...so how could her eyes have missed such an obvious trick? "What was the point of _that_!?" Hinata demanded, seeming both embarrassed and annoyed. "I...I actually thought you were going to kill me..." she breathlessly looked to her chest, heaving with relief. There wasn't even a tear in her clothing, but she had _seen_ the blade sink into her skin and bones; she even thought she had _felt_ it for a moment.

"Call it a trust exercise," Sasuke explained. "As in...you should trust me when I say that your gullible mind is going to cost you a victory that should have been yours." With the illusion dispelled, Sasuke's eyes reverted to dark circles, losing their radiant glow. "The Byakugan is powerful, Hinata, but it can only see what you're mind is able to perceive. Don't lose focus, or you'll fall into a trap. I didn't trick your eyes; I tricked your brain's perception of what your eyes could see. If you had been paying the proper attention, you would have seen the moment of the transition and recognized the effects of a genjutsu."

"R-right," Hinata said, still working the jitters out of her system. "But why did you go so far? You had me believing that you were going to hurt me..." She hugged herself from shoulder to shoulder, turning away and looking down at the ground. Her profile was splotched with patches of moisture from sweat and splashing puddles. Even the imperfection upon her was still part of a stunning portrait. "I don't like that."

Sasuke sighed, shutting his eyes and running a hand through his loose hair. "There are people in this world who are going to be serious about hurting you, Hinata. If you let them see you stumble, there _will_ be consequences. That's why you need to shut down your emotions in battle. They'll lead you astray."

"What does this have to do with trust?" Hinata asked bitingly with her hand clutching her chest. Her white fingers bunched up a clump of her lavender shirt, squeezing it tight just to be absolutely _sure_ that there wasn't a sword through it. "Emotions or not, your genjutsu is too strong for me to see through, even with my Byakugan."

" _Nothing_ is too strong for you," Sasuke said smoothly. The wind picked up again, carrying the scent of dandelions from over the wall that contained the village. There was a touch of rainwater in the new air, too; puddles that hadn't evaporated yet, although the sun had begun to bake the terrain to the point of being parched after it rose. "Your mistake today was to trust me during combat. When the flames came to burn you, there was no urgency in your actions, because you trusted that I wouldn't let them devour you." He took a long breath through his nose, catching little hints of her flowery scent amidst the dirtier aromas of sweat and mud. "But you trusted me _too_ much, so I had to test you further. The flames _were_ just a part of the genjutsu. Your trust is justified, and I'm glad I've earned it. I would _never_ risk using such a powerful technique against you, no matter how confident I might be in my ability to stop it in time."

Hinata stuttered, realizing the implication of those words. He would _never_ risk something like that? "But I _tried_ to escape the sword; it was impossible. For a minute, I actually believed that you were going to kill me with it... Whether I trusted you or not, I felt pain in my chest when you stabbed me."

Sasuke stepped closer to her, tsking with his tongue. "You couldn't have escaped without seeing the truth. The genjutsu I had you under wouldn't have allowed you to get away from the blade unless you dispelled the illusion first. The fact that you couldn't see through the deception is proof that you trust me too much. You think that I'd never lie to you, or that I'd never trick you. It's true that I'm not going to _hurt_ you, but make no mistake—during this training, I _will_ deceive you."

" _Why_ , though? How does playing with my trust help with my training?" Hinata's slight voice had a little bit of rumble to it, a ferocity that was fledgeling but gaining weight with every day. She had a very particular image of Sasuke in her head, and it was of a man who was almost perfect. There was suddenly a crack in the facade. Reality was setting in for her, and she felt like she was the one solely responsible for the blemish. She felt an inferiority coming into her head. Thoughts of her sister's killing intent squeezed her like a massive constrictor. "I'm beginning to think I made a mistake..."

Sasuke had been ready to give her a straight-up answer to how the 'exercise' helped with her training, but then she chose that word, that insufferable _word_ that had been haunting him since the previous night. _Mistake_. That's what Sakura called her marriage to Naruto—not with absolute certainty, but even the suggestion was agonizing to hear. _Could it_ have been a mistake? And if Sakura's marriage to Naruto could have been a mistake, then why not Sasuke's own decision to train Hinata? Despite how well it had gone up until that moment, their friendly relationship hadn't exactly been built on a strong foundation. Impulse after impulse had piled up as a teetering tower, and at the very top there was finally a disagreement. A stray breeze at that point might have been enough to knock it all down.

"You think that coming to me was a mistake?" Sasuke asked, keeping his disappointment concealed underneath three layers of calm, collected neutrality. Even if one coating had begun to peel away, the two beneath were holding steady. "You're free to give up at any time, but I can't promise that I'll be willing to take you back if you change your mind later on."

Hinata blinked, startled by the way she had apparently come across. In retrospect, she realized that she should have clarified a bit more. "N-no, I don't mean... _This_ isn't a mistake, Sasuke, I just think that...maybe I gave myself too much credit. The mistake I think I made is when I went against my father's wishes..." She had a pleading, shy look on the pale bubble of her cheeks, trying to smile in a reassuring way. "I don't regret coming to you because of what you just did. You're trying to help me, and I appreciate that. I just...I regret putting myself in a position where I'll have to distrust you. I wanted you to stay perfect..."

"Is that how you view me, Hinata? You think I'm perfect?" Sasuke softened, his neutrality fading into worried guilt. He had broken some of the stability she had found in the chaos of her world, and he regretted it. Her capacity for trust had already been damaged by Naruto, and Sasuke had undoubtedly made it worse. Still, her naïve view of reality wasn't going to help her become stronger, nor was it healthy to begin with, so he felt the need to tell her the truth. "I'm not perfect, and nobody is. Naruto isn't, your father isn't...and _you're_ not." He added that last part as if he needed to assure _himself_ of the fact, too...just to be safe. "Kakashi, the Hokage whom the entire village trusts, isn't perfect either—and he told me something that you might like to hear. He said: 'all we can do is our best.' I'm doing _my_ best to help you...and as long as you do _your_ best to improve, that's all that matters. In the end, as I've said, it's up to you—only _you_ can determine what your 'best' is. I can only tell you what _I_ think, and that's this: Trusting your opponent is one of the easiest ways to lose a battle."

"Maybe you're right, but _you're_ not my opponent, Sasuke. You're my _teacher_." Hinata's fingers started weaving together in front of her stomach, her thumbs pressing into each other timidly, rolling semi-calloused, hardworking flesh against itself. "I trust my teacher..."

Despite the sweetness of her whisper, Sasuke couldn't afford to let himself melt. Even so, he almost did. He took a long second to consider his reply, but when he gave it, he kept his authority intact: "And I'll bet that you trust your sister, too... _that_ was the point of all this, Hinata. Trust me as much as you like until I'm pointing a sword at you; that's when it counts. You need to know where to draw a line. Don't let your trust get in the way of your combat instinct." Another breeze came, and Sasuke felt its slight chill along the flesh of his arm. He missed his travel poncho, but he would get over it. The weather wasn't really what made him feel cold, anyhow. "Like a skilled shinobi, Hanabi can turn her emotions off in combat...if you can't do the same, then the moment you hesitate to strike her down is going to be the moment she takes advantage of. Even though you're going to become stronger than her by training with me, it won't matter one bit if you let your emotions get in the way of the fight. It only takes one mistake, one single _second_ to be defeated."

Pursing her lips, the young Hyuuga student felt like she was being read one page at a time. "I've had this problem before," she meekly owned up to her previous failure. "I hesitated to deal a decisive blow during a duel, and everyone in the clan saw it happen...Hanabi was chosen as the heir over me because she _didn't_ hesitate to finish the fight."

"Do you regret that?" Sasuke asked simply.

"No," Hinata answered the same way. She fell down onto her rear, sitting with her arms over her knees. The rough concrete fragments beneath her were dried, but still very uncomfortable. She would have _really_ liked to have a real, unbroken chair somewhere in that gray-toned wasteland. "That's the thing, Sasuke. I _know_ I'll hesitate again, even if I do become strong enough to beat her. You're _right_ about me, and that's why I think it's a mistake for me to even try."

Sasuke smirked, allowing some of the tension to leave him. Mistake or not, he was having a good time talking things through. He never felt like much of a talker, before, but Hinata made it easy—she was a stranger who barely knew anything about him, and one who was completely willing to listen. Similarly, he was intrigued by her, and he was willing to explore her thoughts and emotions with sincerity. The teetering tower of impulses had begun to stabilize, but the foundation still hadn't been set. "Hmm, well...that doesn't mean you should give up. Even if you _do_ hesitate and eventually lose the battle, don't you think it might be _fun_ to have a match with her? When was the last time you settled a score with your sister?"

Hinata looked at Sasuke from her place upon the ground with a tilt of her head. She had a look of perpetual innocence and puzzlement, and it was especially dominant when she second-guessed what she heard. "Did you say fun?" She giggled a little bit, also feeling the thick air become lighter around her. The difficulties had passed. Sure, she had been deceived, even _terrified_ , by him...but he was making things alright just by being there, by saying kind things. "I didn't even know you _liked_ having fun, Sasuke."

Sasuke smiled earnestly. "There's a lot that you don't know about me, I suppose." The azure sky overhead was crystal clear, and the Uchiha pointed his eyes toward its very top. He wanted to see infinitely far, but he had to settle with the edge of the atmosphere. "I was a kid, once. I grew up right around here, and I had a lot of fun as a child," he gestured down to the ruins at his feet. "But when I lost my family, I lost everything that I used to be...It's been a long and confusing road, but now that I'm here again, I'm starting to remember what it was like to feel _happy_."

Hinata smiled wide, standing up and drawing toward Sasuke. She was two steps away from being within his hand's reach; it was a comfortable safety net. The last time she had gotten too close, she had nearly kissed him without thinking it through— _twice_ , at that. "So when was it, Sasuke?" Hinata asked tentatively. "When was the last time you really felt happy, with nothing bothering you?"

The young man's eyes fell back down to the earth, finding Hinata in the wreckage. She was far too blissfully pure for such a wasteland; a single lush growth in a desert of desolation. There was pain buried beneath those formless rocks that should never have been associated with brightness like hers. But even so, it was Sasuke's home. His heritage and history were buried there, with the good and the bad mixed together irrevocably. He couldn't enjoy the memories of his friends and family without also recalling the tragedies that shaped his growing years. "The last time I felt happy...truly, _honestly_ happy..." he began with the words, but he had never given the question much thought.

There was so much pain inside him that was paired with such endless regret that it had transformed happiness into a rarity. It was like searching for a four leaf clover in a pile of rotting moss; there was a good chance that it wasn't in there at all. Even on that present day, when he _should_ have been content, there were numerous nagging feelings. Sakura made up the bulk of his concerns, but the state of the village had its bleakness, as well. Crime was on the rise despite the village itself being filled with trained shinobi. One would think that a village full of shinobi would never have to worry about its citizens becoming criminals, but when the shinobi themselves were the perpetrators...well, Sasuke didn't have time to think about all that. He was trying to answer a question. It all came back to one moment: _'_ _When I grow up...I'll join the Police Force too!'_

He remembered being on his brother's back, smiling and talking about simple, optimistic things. That instant was from a day when he still felt like he had a future. A home. A family. People who loved him and a place to belong. It was a time before his brother was forced to commit a terrible act; even longer before Sasuke knew that his own, precious 'home' had been responsible for pressing Itachi to the gruesome task. Sasuke remembered the last time he was honestly happy, but he didn't tell Hinata. He didn't want to give his answer, but he declared it within himself for his own reflection. "I don't remember," he said aloud with a languid thoughtfulness. "It might come back to me someday, but right now it's still a blur. I lost myself for a while...it'll take time before I can find it all again."

Hinata pouted. She hadn't been getting very many clear answers out of him. It was strangely different from their first dinner together, when he had been so open, so blatantly encouraging. As she grew more comfortable near him, she started to see that he was closing himself up and pointing out more of her flaws. She didn't fully understand, but she accepted it. He was Sasuke Uchiha; he was who he was. Just like it was her responsibility to decide what her 'best' would be, it was Sasuke's choice to reveal or conceal the answers to the young woman's curiosity. "Take your time, Sasuke..." Hinata said with mild disappointment. "We'll be training every day, right? Maybe you'll tell me when you finally remember..." She smiled, then took a step back. She didn't let herself go forward—she knew what would happen if she did. It was best to keep her distance. She wanted to let him be the one to come closer.

Sasuke didn't come closer—not in the tender way Hinata might have wished for, at any rate. "Right...and we'll train until you're either resolved enough to eliminate your hesitation, or until you're powerful enough to make up for it. I want to see you succeed, Hinata. To that end, let's get back to work on the next stage of your training."

"Next stage?" Hinata chirped with tiny, shy lips.

"Yes. I've told you before that the Hyuuga Clan's combat style is predictable... _and_ it's limited. One of the reasons I say so is because of a very crucial omission from your arsenal." Sasuke raised his hand to chest level, holding it three inches away from himself. He made a progression of seals with his fingers, though he did it slowly. They were the same seals as before, and just like with his imaginary fireball, he put his fingers in front of his lips and exhaled. What emerged was a tiny, nigh-pathetic stream of fire, just enough to serve as a demonstration. It didn't even singe Hinata's eyebrows before curling up and licking the air, ending with an unremarkable fade. "You should learn how to harness your chakra nature. The techniques of your clan are powerful, but they could be so much _more_."

Though the flames weren't especially awe-inspiring, the idea behind them was enough to make her giddy with anticipation. "You mean...?" Hinata felt like she was a witness to her own commission of blasphemy. Sasuke was telling her to do something that was all but _expressly_ forbidden within her clan; the rigidity of Hyuuga tradition had deterred any clan members from experimenting with the idea.

Sasuke nodded. "We're going to combine your Gentle Fist style with an assortment of elemental ninjutsu."

Hinata was excited to learn more, but she was also reluctant. "But...mastering a new technique takes a long time, and the tournament is only a month or two away. Is that enough time for me to learn what I'll need to know?"

Sasuke had a twinkle in his eye, the sparkle of an idea that had just come to him a short while ago. "Don't worry about that—you're already a fast learner, plus there's something I've been wanting to try. If it works, it should give us all the time we need." Sasuke raised one finger. "However...it's going to be very draining on you, Hinata. Are you willing to give it a shot?"

She was unsure, but also too eager to bother with entertaining any second thoughts. Hinata nodded firmly: "Of course I'm willing...because I _trust_ you." She had doubled her convictions. She wasn't going to let her trust in him waver—even though he had been tricking her, he hadn't actually hurt her. She had seen glimpses of how scary he could be, but only glimpses. She wasn't there to see him at his worst. "Just tell me what to do."

Sasuke's eyes twirled back to life, but his left orb continued to change. It progressed up to the point of becoming the Rinnegan, its hypnotizing circles pointed directly toward Hinata's determined gaze. He closed his right eye, leaving only the most powerful one in view. "All I need you to do...is relax," he said calmly. He wasn't sure that it was going to work the way he intended, but it was worth giving it a try. Chakra began to fill his ultimate eye.

Hinata felt another surge of fear, but she faced her worries unflinchingly as her world took on a sudden darkness. The emptiness started on the corners of her vision, but it soon grew outward to engulf everything she could see in a dense black sheet of ink.

* * *

 **Hey everybody! Sorry about taking so long to get this chapter done. I had a very busy week with very little time to sit down and write! I hope this one was worth the wait—It shouldn't take nearly so long for the next one, if that's any consolation. My schedule is a bit unpredictable, but rest assured that I was trying to squeeze in as much writing as I could—it's my favorite hobby, after all. Thanks for being patient, and as always, thanks very much for reading!**


	25. Plenty of Time

**Enjoy!**

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Naruto and Sakura were training off of one another with brutal intensity. Sakura's strength was tremendous; the trees encircling their training field were feeling the impacts from dozens of yards away whenever the married couple's fists struck one another. It was a classical sparring match; testing defenses, playing around one another's weaknesses. Making each other stronger with every even trade. Naruto was clearly superior to his wife in pure strength and ability, but the repeated tactical exchanges made for good practice nonetheless. Another session came to a stop after one final cross of knuckles; the sound was like a clap of thunder blasting overhead. Silence fell as the sun hit high noon and began to directly beat down upon the sweating partners. "Time for a break...?" Sakura heaved through gulps of air; her arm was shaking against Naruto's while she struggled to hold herself up.

Naruto nodded, giving off an aura of the same kind of weariness. He could have continued for three days if he _had_ to, but despite all his strength and stamina he was still in need of a sip of water from time to time for comfort's sake. "Yeah...good idea," he replied with a long exhale. The field they chose for their workouts was familiar to them both—it was the same location as the bell test they took as graduating Academy students. There was a stream not far from where they stood, and it made for a fantastic location for a short rest. Sakura was already on her way to its banks, and Naruto followed behind. He looked at his wife with reluctant eyes. She wore his ring; she had given herself to him in mind, body, and soul. So why did she still pine for Sasuke?

Pink hair was splashed with crystal clear waters, and Sakura gave a groan of satisfaction while she felt the cool liquid dribble down her neck and shoulders below. "Ahh, that's amazing!" she exclaimed, digging both hands back into the stream to make a cup out of them; she lifted a scoop of pure hydration up to her lips and guzzled greedily, letting it fall down her chin and past the collar of her shirt, effectively replacing her grimy sweat with a cleansing flow of cool refreshment.

Naruto took a seat beside her, raising a knee and resting his arm atop it while his other leg stretched out. He set his foot into the rushing water, letting the cold wash over his toes. It did feel nice, but he had a hard time enjoying it. "Y'know, Sakura, I've been in love with you since we were just kids. I acted all tough and cool because I thought it would impress you, even though it didn't get me anywhere..."

Sakura blinked; she had heard that confession before, but there was no reason not to play along again. "And I always just thought you were a doofus who didn't know any better..." Her hand wiped one last streak of water over her forehead, then she leaned back on her elbows beside the stream, laying alongside it and staring into the water. "But after a while, you really _did_ start to impress me. I think you've impressed _everyone_ by now."

Naruto gave a nod. "Yeah, you're right about that," he mumbled. "But is that not enough? Just _impressing_ people, I mean."

"That's not all you've done, Naruto. Look at the lives you've saved—the _world_ you saved. Not _just_ me, or Kakashi-sensei, or Guy-sensei...you saved everybody. We owe you everything. Even Sasuke owes you a lot for snapping him out of his quest for vengeance..."

"Yeah...Sasuke," Naruto sighed, rolling onto his back and kicking his sandals off. They flew into a patch of long grass a few paces away, but he didn't care whether he lost them or not. He closed his eyes in thought. The conversation was about to get unpleasant, and he knew it. "You've been talking a _lot_ about Sasuke since our wedding, y'know..."

Sakura blushed, thankful that Naruto's attention was on the sky and not her guilty face. "Well, yeah...I'm just glad he's okay, that's all." She was anxiously stroking the side of her neck; if her husband would have asked why, she would have told him that she had been bitten by some sort of marsh bug. "You really did a great thing for him by convincing him to come home."

"I'm not the one who convinced him to _stay_ , though," Naruto hummed, scowling a little bit. He had been alright with Sakura and Sasuke's mutual confessions in his apartment, and the hug that followed; it was just a friendly reconciliation. A happy reunion. Closing one chapter, opening another. But then Sakura talked about Sasuke during the honeymoon, too. Sure, she was worried about him—curious about what her husband thought about it all. Even then, though, the way her voice lowered with reverence to the Uchiha's name was _telling_. "It was all you. I'm glad he's here, too, but...do you really have to keep _looking_ at him the way you do?" Naruto felt like an ugly person right there. Old, dusty jealousy was coming back up. He was giving in to his childish impulses, but he felt that it had to be done. He wasn't quite ready to grow up if it meant allowing Sakura to yearn for somebody else unopposed.

"Naruto, what's this about...?" Sakura was halted; her question had to be forced out of her dry mouth. No matter how much water she had soaked her throat with, it all shriveled up again when she was confronted about Sasuke.

"Do you really love me as much as I _think_ you do?" Naruto's voice was hesitant, too. It was a question he shouldn't have had to ask—after all, their honeymoon was genuinely magical, barring the few moments when Mrs. Uzumaki had the urge to talk about the last Uchiha. "I mean...are we married because you love me, or is it because you felt lonely when Sasuke wasn't around and I was just a decent replacement?"

Sakura looked and felt insulted. She couldn't just lie down and take _that_ one. "Hold on a second, Naruto!" She was on her feet in a half a second and she was looming over her husband like a shadow of vengeance. "First off, I don't think it's really fair of you to ask me a question like that!" She clenched her jaw tightly, puffing her nostrils with anger waiting in the wings. "You know _damn well_ how much I love you, you moron!" She clenched her fist and dropped her knuckles toward Naruto's head, seeking to bop him a good one for being such a jerk.

Naruto caught her heavily-falling fist at the wrist with his bandaged fingers, stopping her flat and causing her to hurt her own shoulder—she pushed too hard, even after she knew she couldn't overcome his speed and strength. When he opened his lids, Naruto's eyes were yellowed, his pupils slanted into ovals—he had entered Sage Mode while he was daydreaming a moment before. "I _mean_ it, Sakura! I _think_ you love me, but...Sai always told me you were hard to read. I just laughed him off, because why would you ever hide something from _me_ , y'know? But last night, you were acting really weird around Sasuke...and it's got me thinking that maybe I'm missing something...I feel like you're not really _my_ wife, and that's because you're still gaga over _Sasuke_ , _right!?_ " He shouted up at her, showing the little fangs at each corner of his mouth. He wasn't angry enough to pull out Kurama's power—not against his beloved wife, especially—but he was certainly feeling a very strong rush of emotion.

Sakura huffed and pulled her hand out of Naruto's grip, shaking it to dispel the ache in her wrist. She stepped back from him, letting the sun bake his face in the absence of her shade. "It's not what you think, Naruto..." she addressed somberly. She couldn't outright deny what she had been thinking. She knew better than to try. Still, she had her own concerns to air. "But I'm not done yelling at you, either—what was that all about last night with Hinata? You never call me ' _sweet_ _cherry blossom_ ,' Naruto..." She scowled. "So what the hell was that? Did you come up with that one while you were looking at _her_...?"

Naruto's eyes went a little wider, and his mouth lost its edge. He had been caught in the act. His whole expression seemed to go limp before turning sheepish and ashamed. "A-actually, Ino told me to call you that if I ever wanted to get out of trouble...she said it was like a super-romantic nickname; a secret weapon..." He had to laugh for a short breath at the absurdity. "Lousy advice, right?" He closed his eyes and put his hand in his hair to rub the back of his skull, trying to smile although he felt like he was under a lot of scrutiny.

Sakura cracked a smile too, because she immediately knew he was telling the truth. Ino did have a habit of giving sub-par love advice, even though it was _sometimes_ good enough to work. Fearing that she might lose her momentum if she laughed, though, Sakura shook her head and regained her fierce, accusing look and tone. "Don't change the subject—what was going on last night with you and Hinata?" Sakura was trying her hardest to divert some of the blame off of herself. If she could implicate _him_ for doing the same thing he thought _she_ was doing, then maybe it would be easier to turn it into water under the bridge after a quick scuffle. She knew how her husband's mind worked—she had been his lover for a year and a half, and his friend for a decade longer than that. This wasn't their first argument, and it sure as hell wasn't going to be their last.

" _Gah_ , Sakura, don't try to turn this on me...Hinata was just pissed off about how I married you instead of her, or something..." He grumbled and sat upright, looking away from Sakura and gazing across the stream into the nearby wilderness. "I told her she wasn't my type...I think I really hurt her feelings, but I was kinda sick of pretending that I didn't know she was trying to get my attention. She wasn't moving on like I thought she would."

"Hold on...you _knew_ she was jealous all this time?" Sakura was incredulous; she hadn't expected to hear that bit. "I thought you were just oblivious all that time...You know, even if you're _not_ just lying to appease me, then you're _still_ in trouble. Shame on you for waiting so long to set the record straight with her!"

"Anyway, _you're_ the one changing the subject!" Naruto pointed his finger at Sakura as he turned at the waist to look at her from his pouty seated position. "Tell me what you said to Sasuke! I already know you didn't go to the bathroom when you said you did! I'm kind of offended how you thought that would have fooled me, to be honest..."

Sakura flexed her forehead and tried to sound dignified, though she knew she fell behind in the running as soon as Naruto had such a quick, convincing answer to all her probing questions. "I...might have told Sasuke that I'm still in love with him, last night..." She tapped her pointer fingers together, resting her other fingers against one another and holding her hands in a big ball near her chest. "But it's not what it seems...it all kind of hit me afterward. I didn't _mean_ what I said to him, it was just a stupid impulse talking for me. Still, whether I meant it or not, I'm sorry, Naruto...it's been a struggle having him here...and when I saw the way he looked at Hinata, I...well, I got really jealous, and it drove me up a wall. I had to throw myself at him to see what would happen..."

Naruto's ears perked a little. Maybe it was obvious, but he hadn't really noticed the vibe between Sasuke and Hinata. Sure, he thought it was strange that they kept being in the same place as one another, but it was probably a coincidence... _probably_. "Wait, so you're serious about being jealous of Hinata? I thought you were just trying to get me to change the subject."

"I sort of was trying to change the subject, but...I mean, if you want a real answer, Hinata's a whole different class of girl, Naruto. She's a hell of a lot prettier than me, she's got those gorgeous, powerful eyes, and...well, she's got a sweet personality that makes a lot of people really want to be around her." Sakura felt small as envy filled her words. She thought of Hinata as the prime model for the perfect girl—all her features were exactly right. Even her forehead was nicely proportioned, and that's where the jealousy first started years ago. "She's always made me feel big and clumsy by comparison, I guess."

Naruto snickered. "Well, you've probably broken a lot more things than she has..." He pretty quickly changed his tone and raised his arms defensively, hiding his face behind them. "But it doesn't matter! I already told her she's not my type, and it's the truth! Sure, you're not always dainty and sweet, but you're strong and straightforward! I've always liked that kind of thing a lot better...y'know, because we think so much alike. Besides, I think you're prettier than her anyway!" He stayed braced for another few seconds before deciding that Sakura wasn't about to hit him for his facetious quip. He checked between his arms carefully and saw that she was waiting patiently for him to continue. "So...when you threw yourself at Sasuke, what happened? Didn't you say that it's not what it seems? What was it that 'hit you' afterward?"

"Yeah, well...I confessed that I still loved him, and all that...but the way he looked at me made me feel like a monster. He accused me of stringing you along, of being underhanded...and he was right, that's _exactly_ what I was doing when I let myself give in to my stupid, _stupid_ impulse..." Sakura felt a tear on the corner of her eye, and she wiped it away carefully before it took over the rest of her expression. "That look said it all: he doesn't want to be with me anymore, Naruto...I think he realized the same thing I did."

"What's that?" Naruto asked. He still felt a long cord of jealousy winding itself along his spine, but it was slowly loosening its hold as Sakura further explained herself. She was right—he _did_ know exactly how much she loved him, and he felt like a fool for even thinking for a second that it might have all been a ruse. "What'd you realize?"

"What he and I felt for one another...I don't think it was really _love_ , exactly...not _that_ sort of love, I mean." Sakura brushed her hand down her cheek, then hugged herself below the chest. "I mean, I love Sasuke...but it's not the same as how I love you, Naruto. I _thought_ it was, I really did, but...the more I think about it, the more I realize that it was all just a fantasy I had in my head. Sasuke was always my ultimate goal, right? Me and Ino would always fight about which one of us would get to marry him, but...Maybe he's really not my type, like how Hinata's not yours. I...I kept trying to imagine him being in your place during our honeymoon, and...well...it was a little bit enlightening."

Naruto blushed heavily. "Y-you were imagining Sasuke in my place while we...?"

Sakura blushed too, waving a quick hand to dispel the notion and giving off a sharp eek of embarrassment. "N-no, I don't mean _that_! I'm talking about when you and I talked together, walked together, had our little arguments about where to eat...all the _little_ things. I realized that everything I had imagined about Sasuke was just filler; a bunch of fantasies. He barely ever _spoke_ to me when he was around, so I liked pretending what he'd say if he _had_ spoken to me. In the end, I think that my imagined Sasuke was a lot more romantic and charming than the one I saw last night..."

"And...you think he's feeling the same way about you? I dunno, Sakura...as much as I hate to buy into that Uchiha curse of hatred, love-eventually-equals-rage crap, at least _some_ of it has to be true. Do you think he'd get over _any_ kind of love as fast as you're saying _you_ did?" Naruto slanted his brows, standing up from his lazy place beside the stream to face Sakura with serious implications. "I mean...telling him you still love him might end up having some pretty bad consequences, especially if you didn't mean it..."

Sakura gulped. "Uh, well...that isn't even the _worst_ part..."

Naruto put his hand to his forehead and sighed. "...What'd you say to him, Sakura?"

"I...at the _time_ , I thought we both wanted to be together, and I talked about how it wasn't good for either of us to be around one another since it couldn't happen; I'd never be unfaithful to you, Naruto...so it seemed like a good idea to suggest a 'solution'. _At the time_ , it seemed like a good idea, that is..." Sakura took a breath, then winced prematurely, eeking out her biggest offense with fifty pounds of tension and regret. "I told him he should leave Konoha."

Naruto fell silent, and his eyebrow twitched. He couldn't pretend to be as surprised as he knew he should have been—he knew all about how his wife had a way of saying the exact wrong thing with all the right intentions. She had, once, even confessed love to _him_ falsely when she thought his devotion to bringing Sasuke back was entirely her fault, and she wanted to talk him out of it. She was misguided, but genuinely trying to do the right thing, so it was difficult to be angry. Bothered, but not _angry_. "Well gee, how'd he react to _that_ , Sakura?"

"Not good, but maybe not as bad as you'd think...He said that he _couldn't_ leave anymore, and I think I know why. So, to answer your question about whether or not I think he's realized that our love was nothing but vapor...I'm pretty sure that I've already been _replaced_ in his mind." She didn't like saying it aloud, but she was only telling the truth. "Sasuke's not in love with me anymore, if he ever really was..."

Gears turned, clues clicked, and a conclusion was drawn. "So you mean..." Naruto began, looking a bit tentative. Sometimes he got the answer wrong, so he allowed Sakura to finish for him while pretending he understood.

"Yeah..." Sakura answered with a little bit of dread. "I don't think that photo was a coincidence after all...I think he's falling for Hinata, and fast."

"And she's falling for him the same way, right...?" Naruto pondered. Hinata _did_ seem unusually assertive the night before, and she _had_ mentioned training with Sasuke with a sort of glow on her face that Naruto hadn't seen from her in a long time. There was definitely a change. "Isn't that a good thing for both of them, though?"

Sakura gave a shrug of one shoulder, leaning her head to one side precariously. "I dunno. I want to believe that Sasuke has changed for good, but what happens if this doesn't work out? Do you think he'll be okay?"

"I think we should hope for the best, and that's _all_ we should do." Naruto wagged his pointer finger. "Let's not get involved, otherwise it's gonna look like we're _trying_ to get involved."

"Right...and Sasuke would probably see right through the 'help' and get annoyed, then he might take it out on _her_ , and...Okay. Let's just both pretend we haven't noticed anything. Deal." Sakura nodded. "At least for _now_..."

Naruto gave a nod, though he wasn't a fan of the ending ambiguity. "It's _settled_. Oh, and before I forget...you should really talk with Sasuke and apologize. For _everything_ you said, but mostly about the 'leave Konoha' part. If you take it back right away, it might not have enough time to sink in and make him mopey..."

Sakura was about to agree, but a little eavesdropper made his presence known with brash confidence: "Make _who_ mopey!?" A chipper, young-but-growing voice called from the trees. Naruto had sensed the approach from far off with his Sage energy, but hadn't been in the state of mind to let Sakura know. The figure emerged from the high green spires along with a few leaves he had knocked loose. He was wearing a mint green shirt and brown pants with a blue scarf blowing off his neck. His forehead was decorated with a Leaf headband. He landed at the end of his leap with precision and held up a carrying case with two cups of ramen, still steaming hot.

"Konohamaru!" Naruto and Sakura both greeted at the same time, abandoning their conversation in favor of regarding their new spectator. Naruto asked him the obvious question: "What're you doin' all the way out here?"

The teenaged, potential-laden member of the Sarutobi Clan shrugged with an air of trying to act cool. Maybe trying a little _too_ hard. "I heard you were gonna start training today, so I thought maybe I could give you two a couple of _pointers._ Plus I figured you might be hungry, boss." He held up the cardboard carrying case by the flimsy handle. "Iruka-sensei told me you'd be here, so I brought lunch."

Naruto snatched the ramen cups and took one for himself, then passed the other to Sakura, who accepted it with a thankful nod toward Konohamaru. Naruto put on a false sneer. "More like you brought a _bribe_ ," he grumbled skeptically, but he wasn't about to turn the gift down. "Fine! You can train with us today, but try not to get in the way. We play rough!"

Konohamaru grinned wide, then posed as tough as he could with both fists raised. "Give me all ya got! You're looking at the future champion of the Beginner Tier, here! Nobody's going to take me lightly after this tournament is finished!"

"Stick with me long enough and that dream might just come true, kid," Naruto smirked with an air of too much confidence. Sakura sat down beside the stream and started to sip some of the excess juice off the top of her cup. She let the two numbskulls trade 'cool' remarks for a while; the longer her break was, the better she would feel about picking things up again, so she wasn't eager to rush them. Despite the heat, the day was a pretty fantastic one. She was hoping that Sasuke would accept her apology—her compulsion to be the center of her attention had a tendency to get her in trouble, and the previous night was no different. She only hoped that the whole thing could be put to rest soon.

* * *

Hinata felt like she had been warped into an entirely separate place, though the scenery had only changed on the surface. She felt the weight of her own body pressing on her feet, which in turn pressed into the ground beneath. It was sturdy but slanted footing, the same ragged, uneven layers as the Uchiha District's ruins. In fact, she could see further beyond the ruins and into the village itself—it was all still there in the distance, completely intact, but layered with blackness just like the area immediately surrounding her. She turned her attention toward the sky, and it was colored with a shade of deep red, like a bloody ocean turned upside down and waiting to pour down upon the charred remains of the world. It had all happened in an instant; Sasuke's eye had pointed at her, and she had been sucked into the barren, alternate reality that was inspiring dread within her quickly-beating heart. She brought her hand to her own cheek, and she felt the tips of her fingers touch the smooth skin of her face. She pinched herself, and it hurt. It felt completely real, but how could it have been? Hinata looked straight ahead to see Sasuke, the only entity with proper coloration in the whole landscape. He stood out boldly, like a flower in the desert, but he was far more fearsome—in fact, he seemed more like a brightly colored viper, poised to strike. "Where are we...?" Hinata asked, hearing her own voice echoing in the total silence as if it were detached from her body.

"In a sense, we're in a world created by my eye," Sasuke responded with an even tone. Of course _he_ wasn't shocked by the bizarre shift in scenry—he was in complete control of that nightmare world. He took comfort in the emptiness, in the blackness; the bloody sky was like a blanket to him, tucking him in and keeping him safe. "How do you feel, Hinata?"

Hinata pinched herself again, and every instinct inside of her was screaming at her and telling her to panic. She was a prisoner beneath Sasuke's will; she looked above to see that the swarm of flies that hung above her training ground remained present, but completely immobile. Similarly, she used her Byakugan to stare out into the village, taking inventory—the people still existed, but they appeared as statues covered in solid tar, frozen mid-step. Children were suspended motionlessly in the air, legs tucked to their chests while hopping into puddles. The place she was in seemed exactly like her home, but the stillness and lack of color was unnerving. "I feel...displaced," Hinata answered. Again she heard hollowness in her voice. The air pressure was a little bit heavy, but the temperature was surprisingly tolerable. She would have expected either extreme heat or extreme cold, but it was somwhoe a soothing, balmy summer day in 'Hell.'

"That's to be expected. Your body might _feel_ perfectly real, but this place, and these moments...they don't truthfully exist." Sasuke replied, standing away from her. Just as he was the only other body with coloration, he was also the only one with the ability to move through time. "Our real bodies are standing where we left them, while our fantasies live on in their place." he explained while he took a step. "Now, listen: This world is to be used specifically for education and technical practice."

Hinata looked at the back of her hand—she didn't _feel_ as if she were under a genjutsu, despite her surreal surroundings. Was that the true power of Sasuke's eye? "How did this happen?" Hinata breathed slowly, gathering her composure as well as she could. She felt like a cornered animal; a total prisoner. "What did you _do_ to me?"

Sasuke could sense Hinata's unease. His dominion over that dimension was almost absolute, but the one thing in existence which had been allowed to keep its own agency was Hinata herself. He took a step toward her and gave her a reassuring smile. "It's actually simple, if you can grasp the _intensity_ of the technique. I've used my chakra to implant a scenario within your mind, and copied that scenario into my own thoughts as well. With the strength of my eye, I have sped up the thought processes of our conjoined minds to an almost-infinite speed. We perceive time as if it were standing still; we can have conversations, practice physical movements, and spar with one another. We can even use ninjutsu in fine detail—this world is like the true world, but with one exception: there is no exhaustion—no running out of chakra, stamina, or breath. That comes later."

Hinata listened and she believed; she couldn't otherwise explain the strange, otherworldly sensation that was gripping her. She had her own thoughts, still—but could Sasuke _read_ those thoughts? She tried to clear her mind, but she also tried not to _look_ like she was trying to clear her mind. "So, if this isn't my real body, how will training here do me any good? I won't get physically stronger in the outside world by working out in here, will I?"

"We'll still need to train in reality, as well, in order to build your body and chakra. This place is a playground, of sorts. We can act without consequences, try out new techniques, and fix your common mistakes and bad habits based on knowledge and repetition. Time _was_ our greatest obstacle in preparing for the upcoming tournament—but with proper use of this supplemental 'classroom,' I think we will end up having days left to spare."

"How did you come up with this idea, Sasuke...?" Hinata asked, growing a little bit more comfortable with the unnatural environment as each timeless moment passed. "It all seems so... _lonely_. An infinite world with a red sky and black, featureless earth..."

Sasuke hesitated to answer, but he felt wrong for trying to hide the details, especially given that Hinata was so disconcerted about the whole thing. "The idea comes from a technique that my brother utilized in life. He called it 'Tsukuyomi,' and it was an ultimate genjutsu—inescapable, absolute. With that technique, he could create entire worlds of his own...Within a place just like this, he could deliver seventy-two hours of pain and torture while only an _instant_ passed in reality..." Sasuke shuddered mildly; even though he had forgiven his brother, the horrible memories of his time within the false world created by Itachi had given him nightmares. His parents' bodies falling to the floor with the life taken from them; the streets of his home covered with the blood of his friends and family. He swallowed his sour memories and focused on the present—Hinata was a beacon of light and purity within the replica of a world that had once been built out of nothing but pain. In a sense, her presence there was therapeutic for him. A single candle in the darkness. "Now, for the sake of disclosure I should say that this place is not actually Tsukuyomi—only Itachi was capable of that exact technique. However, I've experienced the effects a number of times, and I've used those experiences to recreate it as closely as possible, and so we've come to stand here. It's not perfect, but it will do."

Hinata listened to it all with apprehension—she hadn't known about Itachi's power in detail, only that he was fearsome for many reasons. Hearing it as a specific number made her palms sweat. "Seventy-two hours of torture...is that how long you're going to keep _me_ here...?"

Sasuke shook his head. "No...as I said before, this _will_ take a toll on you, Hinata. We'll limit this session to three hours," he told her while displaying his hand with three fingers upheld. "When that time passes, I'll dispel the genjutsu and gauge how your body and mind have held up. If you can handle more, we'll progressively build up to longer stays."

Hinata gulped. The idea of stretching time in such a way was impossible for her to wrap her mind around, but she supposed that such an existential dilemma was to be expected when confronted with the power of a god. "O-okay..." she said, gulping down her own saliva; the taste was exactly as she had come to know. It was unbelievable, to her, that such a minor detail could be so perfectly copied as part of an elaborate genjutsu. "What do we do now?"

Sasuke gave a smirk. "First, we're going to test your ability to create a change in your chakra nature. Since it's my strongest nature, and you've mentioned that you've been able to do it before, I'd like you to produce lightning chakra from one of your hands. It doesn't have to last very long or look very flashy—just show me what you can do, and we'll work from there."

"Alright," Hinata replied. She pushed her misgivings about the desolate dream world to the back of her mind and focused on doing as she was told. She took a breath, made a few clumsy hand seals, then exerted her chakra through her arms. What emerged from her fingers was a plain blue aura—neutral chakra. It was a powerful flow, but not what was requested of her. She looked at her failure in dismay. "I may have done it in the past, but I'm not very _good_ at elemental techniques," she revealed after disappointed second of silence.

"I expected as much—your clan doesn't value the versatility of elemental ninjutsu, and that neglect is a part of what's going to help you defeat your sister." Sasuke moved closer to Hinata, standing just beside her and laying his hand on her wrist. It was an instructive touch, and he gently helped her to reset her hands into a particular sign, bending and flexing her fingers for her with deliberate movements of his own digits. He tugged a pinky, bent a pointer finger, urged her fingertips to touch firmly together. "Like this...make this seal first, then the next..." He intimately delivered the procedure, paying precise attention to every crease in her hands. "Practice the sequence here until your execution has become perfect, and you've created the correct chakra. Then, we can leave this world and test the effectiveness of this lesson within reality."

" _Test_ the effectiveness...? Have you not done this before to know if it works, Sasuke?" Hinata asked the question because she honestly wanted to know, but what was _really_ on her mind was the way Sasuke's fingers had played with hers. She had gone along with every subtle touch, every minor suggestion of muscle and skin; she almost sighed with pleasure as the warmth of his hand—his false, genjutsu-created hand—played along her sensitive flesh. He was so firm and precise that she had goosebumps running along her arm when she thought of his capabilities. She didn't want him to release her from his potent grip, but he did. Even just the sides of her fingers and the back of her hand felt sensitively electrified by his touch, and it had nothing to do with chakra.

"I've worked to create this off-shoot of Tsukuyomi for over two years, but...you're the first person I've ever brought into the world with me." Sasuke brought his hand down from Hinata's two perfectly-intermingled sets of fingers, and he gave a nod to her to signify that the current seal was properly formed. "That's why I feel the need to take it slow at first; I'd rather not overload your mind with too much information at a time until I know you can handle it."

Hinata nodded, then she closed her eyes and took a mental 'picture' of how her hands felt. She committed the positions to memory, then unlaced her hands and pulled them down to her sides. "Two years...why spend so much time replicating a technique that's meant to be used for torture...?" She made the seal again, taking it slow. She had plenty of time, right? No sense in rushing the practice. Getting it _right_ at a slow pace was much nicer than moving too quickly and getting it wrong three times in the same period.

"You're asking me why I would develop a new genjutsu, Hinata?" Sasuke took on a curious tone. He had thought that the answer would be self-evident, but perhaps he wasn't as controlled as he thought. Perhaps she had seen through some of his reasoning and knew that the whole story lay somewhere deeper.

She took her hands down, then started over, making the seal and speaking over her own thoughts. "I mean...you've already got so many amazing techniques, and this one seems so...painful. Not physically, either. I look around, and I see _sorrow_..." She viewed the world; she couldn't get over how bleak it all looked. "Does it have to be so dark? So empty?"

Sasuke nodded reluctantly. He wanted to explain that it was a memento to his brother, a tribute to the memory of a man who lived his entire life in shadow. He told the truth, but not the entirety of it, as always: "It's modeled _exactly_ after Itachi's technique. Every detail, from the sky to the ground, and to the thickness and weight of the air. Changing _any_ of the aspects might create problems with the technique, and I'd rather keep it stable..."

Hinata frowned. "Wouldn't you rather _forget_ about this world, though? You told me that you've experienced it...more than once. Seventy-two hours of pain in a place like this...?" She winced as she tried to imagine it. She could hardly even fathom three hours of _practicing_ within such a void; how could a person even _survive_ extensive torture of that kind? She felt oppressed by the environment even without feeling any pain at all.

Sasuke realized that he wasn't going to get away with total silence, and on a more surprising level he found that he didn't _want_ silence. He distracted himself in part by studying the way the young woman's fingers weaved together; her clumsy seals were already becoming more refined, but when she made a mistake, he quickly brought his hand to hers in order to correct the course as seamlessly as he could. "This world is a necessary reminder of where I came from...as well as a connection to my family. I sometimes come here by myself when I need to take a break from the world out there...especially when I need to think something through, and don't want to be bothered by annoying interruptions."

Hinata stopped practicing for a moment and her hands hung in the air. The idea depressed her, somewhat, and all her thoughts turned to an image of Sasuke sitting alone in the darkness with his back turned away from her. "All by yourself...?" She bit her lower lip. "So you _like_ being alone...? You're not very much like Naruto at _all_ , are you Sasuke...?"

Sasuke furrowed his brow. "That's right...we're practically opposites. Naruto surrounds himself with imbeciles and children, while I prefer to keep things quiet. Effective." He realized the absurdity of what he said but he didn't take it back—even as he touted his preference for solitude, his private domain had essentially been invaded with his express permission. Hinata Hyuuga had breached his most secretive hiding place, yet _he_ was the one who opened the door. "We each have our own ideas and methods for getting things done, and we disagree on just about everything along the way, but Naruto and I do have _one_ thing in common."

Hinata tilted her head. She couldn't see _any_ similarities, really. "What is it?"

Sasuke smirked. It sounded cheesy in his head, and even _worse_ from his smooth, dull-toned words. However odd it felt to say, though, he knew it was the truth. "We share an unbreakable bond with one another...and not just through the ancient spirits that dwell within us. This bond runs deep; deeper than anything I can even imagine. If it weren't so undeniably _real_ , I would never believe that such a thing could exist."

Hinata smiled; hearing him talk that way made her happy. The imposing, suffocating world around her could no longer keep her from feeling good, not as long as Sasuke was there at her side with a lightness in his tone and a tiny smile on his face. "You didn't _have_ to come back to Konoha for the wedding, but you did it because of that bond?" She held her breath in the hopes that she hadn't ruined the conversation by bringing up a sore moment, and to her surprise she realized that her lungs didn't start to burn. Certain properties of the realistic world were _just_ different enough to remind her that none of it was really happening.

Sasuke nodded. "Partially because of the bond, and partially to convince myself that it was really happening." He focused himself on Hinata to remind him that all was not lost. "I had envisioned a future for myself a thousand times, each with a different outcome...would I become Hokage? Might I join the black ops? Would I travel the world for the rest of my life without a true home?" He shrugged off all the abandoned possibilities. "But everything I pictured, no matter how far from Konoha my imagined destiny might have taken me...my dreams always included Sakura being there as well. Naruto is like my brother, but Sakura was my _anchor_. She's the real reason I stayed here long enough to..." He trailed off, turning his head aside to clear his thoughts. Even within his own domain, Hinata compelled him to say strange things. "Anyway, focus on your seals."

"Y-yes, Sasuke..." Hinata murmured. She did as she was told, and minutes passed. Sasuke had abandoned the personal subjects and focused on practical advice. _Keep your back straight, breathe more evenly, use less (or more) chakra._ As Hinata struggled to keep up with the bombardment of advice, hours passed. Before she knew it, the time limit for testing the waters had arrived.

"I'm pulling us out," Sasuke declared. Overhead, the insects that had been frozen in time began to gradually flap their tiny wings again—slowly at first, but within three seconds, time had resumed to its normal pace and they were swarming about with mindless fervor. The colors of the world came back into focus as the darkness exploded like a silently popping balloon. The scents of flowers and the distant din of noisy villagers filled the senses once more to replace the vacuum.

Hinata felt it all rushing back to her. The sensation of being yanked from one place to another sent a tremor through her system and she fell down to one knee, clutching her head. She expected to feel some kind of pain—a headache, maybe some lightness in her thoughts. However, after the initial disorientation caused by the rush of returning sensations, she felt nothing but normal. After three hours of real time in her head, she looked straight up to see that the sun hadn't moved at all. It was still exactly noon—even more impressive was that she remembered every detail of her time in that world with more freshness than she could recall a typical three hour stretch within reality. "W-wow," Hinata whispered as she stood up from her knee. "That's incredible..." she said as she caught her breath.

Sasuke had a smirk on his face. "You're holding up surprisingly well," he praised from several paces away. Although he had positioned himself near her within the genjutsu, his real self hadn't moved so close. "Take a few minutes—catch your breath, gather your thoughts. And then show me the seals I taught you."

Hinata took one deep breath, then held it—her lungs began to burn, so she knew for certain that she had been fully returned into her body. "Okay," she readied herself. "First...this," she said, creating the initial seal she had been shown. The rat. Next was tiger, ox, boar, and so on and so forth. She elegantly repeated the sequence, to her own astonishment. "I...I think it worked," she said with a little giggle. She was impressed by Sasuke's power; she marveled at the effectiveness of his technique. If that kind of training tool wasn't enough to help her defeat Hanabi by the time of their almost-inevitable match, then nothing would have been.

"Excellent," Sasuke answered from afar. "This is our edge, Hinata—Naruto has his shadow clones to accelerate his learning, but _we_ have genjutsu. From here on out, we'll alternate—we'll focus entirely on strength and stamina training for two hours at a time out here, then we'll dive back into timelessness for as long as you can handle. We'll repeat that cycle until you can't anymore."

Hinata gave a determined nod. She had already had a good feeling about training with Sasuke before, but his new trick had given her the kind of confidence that was impossible to deter. "Yes, master," Hinata answered with reverence, hurrying to fetch a large concrete block to begin her own strength exercise.

Sasuke chuckled as she started on her own, dropping to rest on his knees with his back along an angled concrete slab. "Master, eh?" he closed his eyes and laid his head against the surface behind him. "Let's not get carried away..."

A blush formed on Hinata's face; the word had slipped by during her moment of total admiration for him. They were the same age as one another, give or take a few months perhaps, yet he seemed so much older and so much wiser than _she_ saw herself as being. When she was around him, he just _felt_ like a master, whether he wanted to be considered hers or not. She set herself up with weight upon her feet, then she rolled onto her back and straightened out. Her chakra pulled the concrete inward, bolting the mass to her feet while she got into an upright position and braced her hands against the ground. She began to do repetitions of lifting the block with every muscle in her body.

Sasuke watched with his own sort of admiration—he didn't view Hinata as being a 'master' of any kind, but he _did_ see the potential inside her. The very first time he saw her at the Academy, when they were both children and never spoke to one another, he had expected her to become great. She was shy and meek, but her eyes told the entire story—she was going to become unstoppable one day. Sasuke had known it all along—he simply hadn't known that _he_ was going to be the one to make it happen. The thought gave him a swell of pride as he watched her body contort and lift, flexing and folding with precise control.

Sasuke told himself that he would have to someday thank Sakura. If she hadn't convinced him to stay within the village, Sasuke would never have realized that Hinata Hyuuga was _destined_ to become his student—a source of pride that he would always admire. As he watched Hinata work herself tirelessly, he feared what was to come—he could feel the danger rising within him, and there was no more hope for it to ever go away. He recognized the sensation with a petrifying epiphany and felt a round ball of worry rolling around in his stomach, making sure to paint all the walls of his gut with a sinking feeling.

Oblivious to Sasuke's turmoil, Hinata gently lowered the concrete back onto the ground after she had worn herself out, then spread her arms out to make room for her lungs to suck in some more air. "Sasuke," she panted dryly, "thanks again for doing all this for me," she finished after a deep gasp of air. "I promise that I won't disappoint you."

Sasuke hummed with affirmation. "I _know_ you won't," he murmured. "No matter what happens at the tournament, you won't disappoint me. Just be sure that you don't disappoint _yourself_."

"Right!" Hinata answered with a bright smile. She stared into the sun—it had moved a bit since she started. "Oh, Sasuke...I was wondering something..."

Sasuke perked a brow toward her. "Wondering?"

"Yeah...you know the festival that's being planned around the tournament?" Hinata looked away. The pool of dark hair behind her head served as a pillow while she hid herself from Sasuke's gaze. She hunched her lower half, too, trying to be a small target. "It's going to be running for a full week ahead of time..."

Sasuke blinked. "Actually, I had no idea..." He tilted his head curiously. "When did you hear about there being festival?"

Hinata smiled to herself, bringing a hand to her cheek to cover her blushing. "One of the pages in the envelope you delivered to my family," she began. "It mentioned a festival being tied into the event. You didn't read the information?"

Sasuke huffed, seeming disinterested. "Not exactly. I'm only participating in the tournament as a favor to Kakashi; the surrounding events aren't really part of my plan."

Hinata frowned, then hummed to herself. "O-oh, never mind then."

Her tone caught Sasuke's attention; she seemed disappointed. He couldn't stand for that. "What were you going to say?"

She felt her neck and shoulders warming up, since her face was already completely red. Her hair was brushed over her cheek as a sort of shield while she laid on her side and avoided eye contact. She felt pathetic for being so nervous over such a simple thing, but she couldn't help but be who she was. "N-nothing," she said at first. She hoped that her answer might be final, but conversely hoped that Sasuke wasn't going to let her off that easily. "It was a silly idea anyway."

"Just say it, Hinata," Sasuke urged with assertive curiosity. "You don't have to hide things from me."

Even though she was practically being ordered to speak up, she still felt like she might offend him by doing so. Bravely, she opened up: "I got to thinking that we'll be training all week before the tournament, since we have so much we need to do...but I'd hate to miss the _whole_ festival." She rolled onto her back, hoping that her redness would be presumed as the aftermath of her intense workout and not her supreme embarrassment. "I was hoping that we could take a day off from training so I could go see some of the celebration...would that be okay?"

Sasuke hummed in thought, then shrugged. What could it hurt? "I don't see why not...any time you miss can be compensated by using genjutsu."

Feeling giddy inside, Hinata sucked her lips in and smiled, creating little dimples along her cheeks by trying to keep her face tight and poised. "Thank you, Sasuke! Oh, a-and...would you like to come _with_ me when I go? If you're going to be busy, that's okay, but...I'd really like it if you came."

He wasn't so quick to answer that time. He wasn't the festival type, exactly. "...I don't know. That's still several weeks from now, based on what Kakashi said last night—I'd rather not make a commitment that far in advance."

Her smile didn't totally vanish, but some of the air leaked out. "That's fine, Sasuke. Maybe I can convince my father to let Hanabi come with me, instead."

" _Actually_ ," Sasuke started out with a bit of hanging guilt. Even just the slightest wave of disappointment in Hinata's voice was enough to change his mind. "It doesn't matter what comes up—I'm sure I can make time for _one_ day."

Instant brightness. "Really!?" Hinata chirped, bringing her hands beneath her chin and kissing her knuckles nervously. "Thank you so much, Sasuke!" she called out giddily, trying to stand from her laid down position but finding her muscles to be too weak; she stumbled back to her knees halfway through her attempt. She settled for rolling onto her stomach and looking at Sasuke where he sat, observing him like she was a caterpillar and he was a leaf.

"You're getting yourself dirty," Sasuke reminded her as she rolled along the dusty, prickly stones. "And watch for splinters." He felt the sensation growing. The wonderful, awful sensation. He wasn't going to be able to hold back for much longer, regardless of how hard he tried. Hinata carefully stood up from her excited wriggling and dusted herself off, looking at Sasuke intensely and putting on a totally different face.

"Alright," she stabbed the air with her determination. "That's enough rest. I'm ready to go back into that place..." She prepared herself by looking directly into Sasuke's gleaming indigo eye. He went along with her request, and he activated its power once again. The world was doused in darkness so that the repetitive practice could continue.

* * *

By the end of the day, Hinata had spent over forty hours training herself within the alternate world, and another ten in the real world. The physical and mental tiredness had ultimately caught up with her. She clutched her forehead when Sasuke dispelled the genjutsu for the final time, then she dropped weakly to her rear with her hands clutching sharp stones on either side of the rubble beneath her. She heaved her chest massively to gather more and more air to replenish what had been totally depleted. After each training session within Sasuke's genjutsu throughout the day, she had used a huge chunk of her chakra in numerous attempts to create lightning along her fingertips in the real dimension—even just a spark would do. Thus far, the effort was seemingly useless, but every time she tried, she felt like she was getting a _little_ _bit_ closer to success.

Sasuke ended the training with a smirk and a nod of his head. "You're performing wonderfully, Hinata. Do you feel okay?"

Hinata panted hard and felt the typical river of sweat creeping down all the curves and creases along her skin. Aside from total exhaustion and stickiness, she felt fantastic: "I'm tired," she said to Sasuke, "but I'm okay..."

Sasuke looked at her critically. "You don't look very good...you should let me take you home tonight." He offered his hand, as he had offered every night, but once again the girl refused to take it.

"No, Sasuke...not to my _home_. I don't want my father to have any reason to hate you more than he already does...or Ko, either," she explained fairly regularly. "If they see you with me, they might think you're hurting me...or corrupting me." She was on her feet, then turned to leave a bit hastily, hoping that the answer would be accepted. "Thank you, though." Her smile was full of regret as she looked over her shoulder.

"Very well," Sasuke answered respectfully. "Have a safe walk home, Hinata."

Hinata gave a nod, then walked off with a half-limp, and one eye pinched shut to keep the sting of sweat out. "I'll see you tomorrow," she said tiredly, smiling through the soreness and exhaustion with genuine appreciation. It was a long walk, but a triumphant one. Regardless of the progress of her training, she had gotten Sasuke to agree to attend the festival with her. Hopefully, before that day came, she would be able to convince her father and Ko that Sasuke wasn't the monster he was thought to be.

* * *

Several days began and ended after that with very little worth mentioning—Hinata's training continued well, and her ability to produce elemental chakra was coming to fruition after plenty of direct assistance from her mentor, Sasuke. The days were full of motion and intense training, and the nights were defined by agonizingly tired muscles, pounding headaches, and empty chakra reserves. A week passed, then nearly two weeks of the same process. Training had become the order of the day for _many_ of the village's shinobi—nearly every one of them had ambitions to make a name for themself in one of the three competition tiers. Sakura had yet to work up the courage to face Sasuke again, and Kiba had been forced off the 'hunt' by Kakashi's insistence. Of course, such things can only be left to simmer for so long before the liquid dries up and the scorching heat forces something to happen. All the while, the populace was abuzz with growing anticipation—the focus of their gossip had shifted from Naruto's recent marriage, over to his expected rematch with the ruthless villain, Sasuke Uchiha.

And beneath the surface, deceptive schemes were moving forward with calculated patience.

* * *

 **Hope you liked it! As detailed in the last segment there, we're doing a very small time skip before the next chapter starts—take my word for it, nothing major happened in the mean time that I didn't tell you about. Let me know what you thought, then keep an eye out for the next chapter fairly soon. Thanks for reading!**


	26. A Perfect Counter

**Enjoy! This is a chapter that's got a fair bit of combat, so brace yourselves.  
**

* * *

"Alright, Hinata...that's enough for today," Sasuke said with a soft exhale after he dispelled the genjutsu one more time. He typically ended their daily lessons with a brief review, best done within the created realm where time didn't matter—questions could be answered, misconceptions could be corrected, and time could be spent congratulating his student on her rapid progress. This time, though, he cut the session short due to his pupil's condition. "You've made a lot of strides today, but you may have overexerted yourself, too..." he explained as he dusted himself off. Every morning since he had decided to leave his traveling cloak behind, it had stayed on the hook. Sasuke had gotten rather used to wearing a short-sleeved shirt with no considerable protection from the harsh elements, but the wardrobe shift did mean that he had a lot more he had to wash off at the end of each day.

Hinata ended the session on her back, as was part of her ritual, tilting her head back and her chest up to open her throat for air. She wiped her eyes and cleared the sweat from her lids to prevent a sting when she blinked. She looked at Sasuke with total respect and appreciation from her tuckered out rest. Two weeks had passed, but it had felt like so much longer—months, perhaps more, had gone by via the dark world within Sasuke's eye. Suspended in time, they had spent dozens upon dozens of hours together that should have been impossible. Hinata's only regret about said time was that all of it had been devoted almost entirely to training, and very little else. She had noticed Sasuke drifting away ever-so-slightly; it was like he hadn't been opening up the way he used to. Everything he said was about chakra, seals, breathing techniques, proper footings and posture—the kind of humdrum guidance that was helpful, but not what Hinata craved.

"I need to work even _harder_ than this, though," Hinata finally blurted as an answer to Sasuke's concern about overexertion, pushing it through a groan of helplessness. "Hanabi has trained like this every day since she was a child...and she surpassed me years ago. I have a lot to catch up to."

Sasuke smirked. "Her training wasn't _exactly_ like this, but I understand your meaning." He ran an idle hand across the hilt of his sword. The smooth material felt good against his fingers, and despite his legendary power, he always liked to know that the simple weapon was on his back in case he wanted to use it. "Just be mindful not to lose track of yourself in pursuit of your goals...you've already become far stronger than you might realize."

Hinata struggled to stand, and Sasuke didn't help her—he could tell by the look in her eyes that she didn't _want_ to be helped. She had a personal mission, and she was starting to abandon the crutches of the people around her who had been trying to carry her along. She had spent hundreds of hours listening to Sasuke's advice and feeling the isolation of the world modeled after Tsukuyomi—she was beginning to understand Sasuke's preference for loneliness, even though she didn't allow that understanding to override her usual nature. "This pace won't last forever, anyway," she said as she strained her arms to lift her upper body, then flexed her thighs and rear along with her back to lift the lower half. She stood up in a slow curl, rising from bottom to top and then stretching her arms over her head. "Once the tournament ends, I won't _need_ to be so devoted to training. We're at peace, right?" She smiled softly, looking over to Sasuke with cautious eyes. "...I'm glad that I've gotten so spend so much time with you, Sasuke."

For Sasuke, hearing the acknowledgment was a _small_ comfort, but a comfort nonetheless. The comfort mingled together with worry; a fear of making mistakes. No matter how much time he had spent with her in their private little world, Sasuke still felt an unrelenting pressure somewhere within him—it was nervousness, or insecurity; some unnamed feeling that reminded him that Hinata was a woman who had been consuming his thoughts for over a month—and much longer, if the amount were to be counted purely as a matter of _time_ , and not just the rotations of the earth. He tried to remember a time before he felt such a powerful pull toward her, but it was getting harder for him to do so with each breath he took that had whispers of Hinata's beckoning aroma. "You're right; we're at peace. The tournament is only meant to be a temporary _distraction_ , after all..."

"Huh? Distraction?" Hinata leaned backward to stretch in another direction, bending far enough so that she could hang her head and look Sasuke in the eye from her upside-down arch, while keeping on her feet. "Distraction from what?"

Sasuke shook his head. "It's nothing, Hinata—just promise me that you'll be careful on your way home tonight." He had, at some point, given up his habit of offering to walk her there himself since she always refused. And aside from Hinata's typical refusal, Sasuke was _also_ making an effort to relax his desire to be close to her. It was a sincere effort, but it was completely wasted. Everything Hinata said, everything she _did_ , only served to suck him in further.

Hinata leaned from side to side, stretching her burning muscle tissue to force oxygen back into her strained body. "I'll be fine...It's been two weeks since Hanabi was attacked. Maybe they really _were_ just a pair of goons up to no good." Hinata was being overly optimistic, and she _knew_ it, but it was in her nature to see the bright side. "Anyway, I promise to be careful."

"That's all I ask," Sasuke confirmed, nodding his head. The resting place of his clan's legacy was dark, but far over the sunken horizon he could see the very top of the glowing lights coming from the lively village. He had accepted that he belonged within the walls of Konoha, but he had yet to come to grips with living in the world of its _lights_. That was Hinata's domain, not his. He could visit that world from time to time, but he inevitably returned to his comfortable shadows.

"I'll see you tomorrow," Hinata promised with a quiet voice, treating that night the same as every other night for the past month, and then she departed from the ruins with her usual exhausted tread. Whenever she contemplated staying longer, she reminded herself of the 'rules' that came along with being friendly with Sasuke: don't tarry too long; don't let yourself look in his eyes. Don't tempt yourself by walking toward him—always walk _away_. She had successfully avoided any intensely awkward moments since the failed kiss in the restaurant, no matter how much she had wanted to make another attempt. With a relieved sigh, she trudged off, and Sasuke stayed behind to watch her go.

Every step she took was a pound of pressure taken off of her heart. She feared making mistakes around him, so when she was finally out of his sight she relaxed completely and heaved a soothing breath. As she traversed the condensed, compiled ruins, she eventually reached the tilted wall that marked the end of its territory. She passed through the slanted opening that had once served as the imposing gateway to the Uchiha District in its previous life—it had fallen over during the village's destruction, but it hadn't landed flat. The entire wall was a teetering monument, resting permanently against the stacked ruins of the place it used to protect.

There was a short path leading away from the wall that led to the edge of the village's crater; the Uchiha District was easy for most of the village to forget, as it now resided high above the village itself and along the outskirts, hugged against a towering section of the thick border walls. Most of the previously-destroyed village's parts had been salvaged and repurposed for new structures, but not a single brick or beam had been taken from the Uchiha. Perhaps they feared a curse—or perhaps they feared Sasuke's wrath, should they inadvertently taint his former home. Regardless of why it happened that way, it was true that Sasuke's domain was isolated from the remainder of the population. Hinata had no idea where Sasuke had chosen to live—she only knew that it was someplace within the village. She actually didn't doubt that her master might have even slept exactly where she left him amidst the desolation.

She got close enough to the rim of the enormous crater to see down into the village with her deactivated Byakugan, peering downward with smiling wonder. She loved reaching the drop-off every night—standing at its crest gave her an unobstructed view of the entire village without the need for her extended vision. She had used almost all of her chakra during training, just as she had done every single day since beginning her elemental developments, and so she preserved what little she had left by leaving her eyes dormant. The Hokage's residence and the Academy were visibly large, even from such a distance, but the building that demanded the most attention was the stadium: there were braces and networks of scaffolding running all up and down its inner and outer walls. The combat arena was being expanded to accommodate higher-level battles and the overall structural integrity was receiving an upgrade. As she admired the bolstering coliseum from afar, Hinata took a deep breath of village air—it had a weak aroma, one that faded as it climbed, but it reminded her of a coalesced bouquet of everything that made her feel at home.

Along the edge of the crater there was only the most haphazard of wooden railings to prevent random wanderers from falling off the sides. There was an opening in the rail that gave way to a steep, shoddy path, designed to grant access to the broken district Hinata had just left behind. Climbing down the cliff side was fairly easy thanks to the intentionally shaped, stone-reinforced dirt, but she got the sense that the slender road wasn't being maintained very well. Since the day of its initial paving, rain had already washed some of the stones away and they hadn't been replaced. If a person were to neglect their footing, it was possible that they might stumble on that path and roll the rest of the way down thanks to the scattered holes left behind by natural decay. But Hinata didn't stumble, regardless of how weakened her calves, ankles, and toes felt.

As she snaked down the gently winding path, she passed the threshold of civilization; about a quarter of the way down the crater's curved walls, houses and businesses had started to materialize alongside the road, and the way opened into a few more branches, each of them eventually leading to other parts of the village. It was at that point that the misshapen stones began to resemble a more sturdy, groomed walkway. Hinata looked left and right, turning her head to check for oncoming people from other directions. There were a few men and women along the intersecting paths, but they paid her no mind. She continued downward after taking a short pause to catch another breath; as her descent brought her beneath sea level, she could perceive the slight change in air pressure.

Further and further she sank, being swallowed by civilization—on all sides, there were signs, lights, and aromas beckoning her closer. She was surrounded by chattering night owls, those who hadn't yet gotten tired enough to sleep or had only just woken up to enjoy the nightlife. The village was home to all kinds of people ever since the war—gamblers, drunkards, and harassers made up the worst of them; at least, the worst that Hinata knew of. Men and women lined the streets, some meeting one another for the first time, exchanging lighthearted introductions. Hands were shaken, drinks were offered, and perfumes mixed with colognes to fill the air with a near-suffocating musk. It was the casino district, a place that had moved closer since the remodeling of Konoha—previously, the 'gaming' industry had been banished to towns that were closer to the borders of the Land of Fire, but recently the regulations had been slackened.

It was appeasement of the most basic kind; people wanted easier access to the gambling parlors, so it was granted. The Sixth Hokage had been approving a wide variety of new installments to the village, and the population was growing along with the number of buildings inside the walls—every month or so, the crater's barren walls had new nooks dug into them to create flat, sturdy ground for expansion. The land above the Hokage Monument had already been tapped for housing and higher-class establishments, which left the 'ground level' real estate to the less tasteful bidders.

Despite the drunken crowd and mean stares sometimes given to passersby by people looking to start trouble, Hinata was never bothered. She walked that path every night after training, but even if she hadn't become a familiar sight with her lightly-torn clothing and hobbled walk, she would have frightened off interlopers by the heritage of her eyes alone. No scum seemed bold enough to tamper with the Hyuuga clan. Even if they didn't recognize her face, they recognized the white globes that flicked attentively from side to side.

As she continued her routine walk, Hinata got the sense that somebody _was_ paying some mind to her that night—somebody ghostly, a trained shinobi whose movements had likely gone completely unnoticed by the layman. Without turning her head, she triggered her Byakugan for a short burst, using very little chakra and paying close attention to her surroundings. She spotted the source of her uneasy feeling, then she stopped walking and turned, looking up and away from herself—the stalker was a stocky male figure, a little under six feet tall and wide at the shoulders. He was atop a roof that belonged to a casino that stood a block behind where Hinata had halted; he was tucked behind the dark half of a brightly-flashing sign; a sign that was obnoxiously seeking to lure money out of every possible wallet with the promise of easy winnings—via slot machines, no less. The man who thought himself to be sneaky enough to hide had already been caught, and he seemed to know it. Rather than continue the charade, he took a mighty leap from the roof and abandoned his perch.

His dark black robe fluttered in the wind as his body was carried effortlessly and quickly through the sky, and he landed three steps away from Hinata with a gentle thud upon the stony path. He _would_ have made eye contact, but in addition to the dark robe, he wore a mask styled like an Anbu operative's; he kept his distance from the girl and appeared under bright lights to raise his hands and indicate a lack of weaponry. Even so, Hinata pulled up her arms to prepare to defend herself. Seeking to disarm the young woman's defensive instincts, the hooded figure spoke to her with a deep, smooth voice. "Relax, Lady Hinata Hyuuga. I've been sent to _protect_ you."

She was skeptical, but there initially seemed to be no reason to fear him. He had approached her willingly, and hadn't made any sudden movements. His hands, though gloved, were devoid of weaponry or other suspicious items. Hinata didn't answer his statement right away; she was giving her Byakugan another surge of chakra so that she could check beneath his robes and mask—and she found that she recognized the face. It was square and craggy. He was a bit older than her. Behind the mask and beneath the hood; he was bald by intentional design, with lightly-grown, dark stubble pushing its way up after a long day without shaving. The man in front of her was one of the regular door-guards for the Hokage's office during the day shift. Hinata huffed as she brought her arms down, but she turned away from him to continue walking stubbornly. "I don't _need_ protection," she said. _If Hanabi roams the village without a bodyguard, then so can I,_ she insisted to herself. But it wasn't just that. Something in her head was nagging her—telling her to continue alone.

"Normally, I'd agree, Lady Hinata," the masked man began, following behind Hinata while keeping the same three-pace distance away. He was drawing attention to himself through his ominous clothing and bulky mask; _his_ particular facial cover was styled after a simple tortoise; its beaked mouth was lined with red and green alternating whiskers, and there were rings around the eyes—one green, one red, to match the color scheme below. The porcelain-white bulk that surrounded the rare color was flawlessly polished and empty of scratches. Before the familiar man spoke again, he closed the gap by a full step and lowered his voice to a whisper: "Unfortunately, the Hokage's office has recently received fresh intel—there are seemingly plans in place to assault you _tonight_ , my Lady. The Lord Hokage has appointed me to be your protector. I am to bring you to a secure location right away."

Hinata slowed her pace, but did not stop. She had hoped that Hanabi's ambush was an isolated incident, but the hope seemed to be nothing more than a dream after all. "A secure location...? So you're planning to take me _home_?"

The door-guard shook his head, ducking aside from a wandering drunk to avoid losing his stride by bumping shoulders with the clueless individual. He weaved his broad frame through the crowd with deft precision as he fluidly answered Hinata's question: "Not home, not right away—the usual route is deemed unsafe, for now. The insurgents have been monitoring your routine, my Lady. If this new intel is to be believed, they plan to ambush you near your home; we don't know the exact location, their numbers, nor do we have any estimation of their skill level. For the time being, it is safer for us to redirect you until your route can be secured by a proper team."

Hinata turned her head to regard the man behind her; he was certainly drawing attention to himself with his ominous attire, but perhaps it was on purpose. What sort of fool would openly attack somebody who was accompanied by a visible Black Ops escort, after all? The Anbu division was known to host the largest concentration of the village's most elite shinobi, ever since the war had dwindled Konoha's military power as direly as it had. The days of numerous elite Jonin wandering the streets in green vests had passed. She sighed as she realized that she was being given only two options: Defy instructions from the Hokage and risk walking into an ambush because of it, or give up on her timely return home in order to follow the man behind her who _seemed_ to have her best interests at heart. "Okay," she decided, closing her eyes and folding her hands in front of her stomach innocuously. "Where are we going, then?"

The escort gave a nod. "Very good, Lady Hinata." He moved to flank her, pacing his steps with hers and standing directly beside her to continue whispering the details. Despite the low roar of mixed laughter and anger all around the district, his voice was easy to hear: "There is an unused, unfinished dwelling not far from here—a guard detail has already been posted inside; I am to bring you there and await further instructions from the Hokage."

Hinata sighed, but her hands had been tied by the circumstance and she preferred not to make a scene about it in public. "Alright...lead the way." She looked to the disguised male with a suspicious raise of her lip and squint of her eyes. "By the way, what's your name, sir? I've seen you posted at the Hokage's door, but I've never known how to address you."

He didn't turn to regard her as he got in front and began to lead the way. His first move as the leader was to tuck into an alley with an abrupt turn; as his pace increased, he reached a hand back to clutch Hinata's wrist and hurry her along. "As a member of the ANBU organization, my name is forfeit—I have no more than a designation." He was silent for a moment, seemingly choosing whether or not to reveal his code. "I am called 'Shell,' my Lady."

"Shell?" Hinata tilted her head with intrigue, but she also winced as she was hurried; her muscles were freshly worn, and every coerced step felt a little bit more difficult than the last. Without Shell's urgency and support, she might have _already_ collapsed at such a brisk pace. She panted, but continued her curiosity as she passed numerous back doors and boarded windows on either side of the narrow passage. "How did you get that designation?"

He chuckled firmly and made a powerful leap, dragging Hinata along with him—she belatedly matched his jump to prevent a harsh pull on her shoulder socket, but it strained her legs to do so. "You may find out some day," he answered with a gruff exhale into the wind, the muted words being carried into Hinata's ears by the hissing air. He took another leap after landing the first, distancing himself from the alley and settling atop a darkened structure—his newest landing pad was part of a district that was still being built into the crater's side; the small region had been planned in order to provide luxury housing to those who happened to have gambling addictions _and_ far too much money to waste on _feeding_ said addictions; homes for drunken millionaires to collapse in after long nights of debauchery and carelessness. "There," Shell voiced quietly, hunched over and pointing toward a nearly-finished, three-story building across the cobbled road. The whole street was dark; the wiring seemingly hadn't been run through the lamps, yet, though a number of the unlit fixtures stood as hooked spires over the empty roadway. "My team is already inside. I will enter first by giving the all-clear; you should follow behind. Keep your eyes open, my young Lady. We do not know if our enemy has a backup plan."

"I think this might be a waste of effort," Hinata said with an apologetic tone as she studied the unwelcoming safe house. The male's grip on her wrist prevented her from arguing too fiercely, so she kept her reasoning vague. She also didn't want to give too much information away, just in case things weren't as they seemed. "If I really _am_ in danger, then there's already somebody I can turn to for protection...and this person is very close by."

The Anbu soldier's grip tightened slightly upon his charge's arm. "I apologize, dear Lady, but I _need_ to follow my orders—and those orders are to bring you into _that_ building as quickly as possible...and to keep you _safe,_ once we're inside. Come with me, Lady Hinata." He pulled on her arm again, and she didn't like his urgency. She began to wonder about his true intentions, but went along with him regardless. As they arrived with a dual thump upon the gravel that was lining the ground in front of the placeholder-plain wooden door to the luxury home, Shell knocked three times upon the lumber with a very particular rhythm. Four taps were given in response from the other side, brief pauses of various lengths in between. Shell carried out the last string of code as a series of seven thuds, then after a moment of cautionary silence, the latch was clicked and the door was swung open by the unseen denizens within. The first words out of Shell's mouth seemed to be full of authority—he was clearly in charge of that particular cell. "I've brought the VIP; any word from the commander?" He took a quick inventory of his men—there were three of them stationed on the bottom level of the building, all hunched around unprofessionally.

"No word from the commander, boss," one of the men beside the door responded somewhat lazily. "C'mon. Once she's in here, let's talk about how exactly we're goin' about protectin' her."

Hinata was brought in behind Shell, staying silent as she listened. Once she was safely within the humid foyer, the door was closed behind her and entry was flanked by two of the three interior guards. Shell released Hinata's wrist and stepped forward while the third one of his men took the place in front of her with lousy posture and a crooked neck. Hinata felt strange beneath the stares of the trio as her would-be guardian gained some distance from her. The girl took a moment to study the layout of the first floor; it had several rooms, all partitioned from the main chamber by thick, hard walls; no expense was spared in providing sturdy casings. The walls themselves were made of currently-unpainted concrete; with a quick flash of her Byakugan, she saw that the outermost walls and the upper two floors were reinforced by latticed iron bars, though the interior walls lacked the additional support. Some of the rooms were furnished for demo tours, but some weren't. The main room, where she then stood, had a couch that faced a plain fireplace; the floor down there was made of uncovered wood and there were no lights shining, despite fancy fixtures being installed overhead. In fact, the room was _oppressively_ dark. That was fine for Hinata, though; her eyes, even when inactive, were capable of precise night vision once given a few moments to adjust.

"I apologize for the lack of comforts, Lady Hinata," Shell said in the darkness, his voice echoing slightly against the bare concrete walls. "This is an unfinished property, after all."

"It's not a problem," Hinata answered softly. She shifted her feet nervously as she felt the looks around her growing sterner. "I've survived worse," she mumbled with appeasing sincerity and a smile. "And I'll survive _this_ , too," she said with a sudden harshness.

"Eh?" Shell questioned with a soft inhale, though he didn't rotate to look at her.

Hinata turned with a sudden rush of adrenaline and lifted her foot from the floor. Her heel rose above shoulder-level and she pivoted on her other foot to whip her leg around with brutal efficiency. The back of her sandal-styled boot struck the side of the scrawny neck of one of the twin guards placed by the door. He didn't have time to blink, let alone react defensively. He was struck with such might that his feet were torn from the floor and he was sent spiraling into his opposite comrade. The two crunched together with a dull thud and a sharp snap of their masks; their faces crashed and the flimsy faceplates shattered in tandem to leave sharp white flecks all across the floor in a line beneath their trajectory. The momentum of the initial kick carried both full-grown men several feet further until the pair met an unceremonious stopping point; their limp bodies slammed into a far wall on the right side of the room, sending a small fracture through the concrete, but only the _slightest_ of such. It was strong material, indeed.

Seeing that Hinata had seemingly lost her mind, the third of Shell's subordinates ducked his head down and charged for the Hyuuga girl, reaching behind his back to pull out a thick wooden club. Hinata saw his approach from behind with her powerful eyes, which were activated as needed—she had very little chakra left, but in such a situation as the one she found herself in, the utility of her vision had become an absolute necessity. The charging man was nimbly sidestepped by his target as he swung his club clumsily; the attack whistled through the air and found no contact. Hinata's body swirled around as a continuation of a single motion and her elbow came around to collide bluntly against the back of the man's neck, knocking him instantaneously unconscious and allowing his momentum to carry his face into a panel of hard concrete just beside the front door.

Hinata paused for just a moment to gasp and marvel at her own swiftness and strength. Even though it hurt her aching body to do so, she had utterly decimated _all three_ of those men, though they all survived her onslaught with shallow breaths. With just a little bit more strength, though, she would have likely killed them just like Hanabi had killed the pair in the alley. Clearing her head of such dour thoughts, Hinata bolted for the door, grabbing the handle and turning it—she only needed to call out the door for help. Sasuke would come, then, no matter how far her voice had to travel to reach him.

"Ahh," Shell murmured from behind her, quickly weaving a set of eight seals while turning to face her. He then slammed his palm into the wood floor with a quick bend of his knees. "You're more perceptive than I expected you to be," he complimented her with hushed, backhanded amusement. "Though, I knew that such scoundrels would not convince you of their legitimacy for long...In truth, you were supposed to have been knocked _unconscious_ by now, but it seems that the data I was provided with regards to your capabilities was a tad... _outdated_."

By the time Hinata opened the door with a turn of the handle, she had tried to run out but was stopped by a rising wall of crisp, buzzing yellow energy. A barrier. She frantically pushed her hand against it, but her fingers were quickly scorched with pain and she was forced by instinct to pull backward. "Nngh," she moaned, clutching her hand within the other and realizing that she wasn't going to escape that way. She also realized that the sounds from the nearby gambling district had been silenced; the barrier was soundproof, as well. Containment and concealment. Shouting would do no good, so she saved her energy. She didn't have enough chakra to even _attempt_ a strong enough blow to pierce the barrier—not with an elite Hokage guard at her back to prevent it, as well. While she was assessing the situation with her Byakugan, she saw that the barrier had already covered the entire exterior of the building—all four outer walls, as well as the roof, had been accounted for. There was even a layer hovering beneath the floorboards to prevent a subterranean escape. "You can't keep me here!" Hinata shouted, clutching her fists tightly near her hips with defiance.

"I don't intend to keep you here," Shell replied with a calm wave of his hand. "In fact, I _intend_ to deliver you to a very specific place, after I've earned your...'compliance'..."

"It won't happen," Hinata declared with fierce determination and a shake of her head. She bent at the knees slightly and spread her feet. Her back was to the low hum of the barrier; the blockade wasn't dissipating on its own, so its life was seemingly linked to the energy of the man who created it. Three men already laid unconscious around her, and only one remained—it was obvious, however, that the last man standing was in an entirely separate league from the rest. His partners were stand-ins, but Shell was the real thing. Despite that, Hinata was undeterred by her opponent. "I don't know why you're doing this, but I can _promise_ that you'll fail."

"You don't know why? We can't have _that_. No, I won't allow you to be sacrificed without at least knowing _why_." Shell laughed behind his rounded mask, a monotone procession of false amusement. He didn't get any reaction from his primed target, but he continued anyway: "To ease your worries that my motive might be something frivolous, I'll assure you that it's not because of the money, although there _is_ plenty of _that_. It's not because I'm bored, either, because I'm _not_...no, I'm doing this because I believe very strongly in an _ideal_. An ideal that was passed on to me by my mentor before his death." He raised his arms and then smacked his fists together in front of his chest; the sound of his colliding, glove-covered knuckles rang like metal, sending a shrill crack into Hinata's ears which made her briefly wince. "My mentor, a very _wise_ man, once told me that peace is a toxic fruit; on the surface, it seems quite delicious...but beneath the skin, once it has entered the bloodstream, peace causes a village to shrivel and become _weak_..."

Hinata shook her head with a rush of conviction. "You're _wrong_!" She shouted, taking a single step forward by sliding one foot, then another, not leaving her prepared stance. "It's not weakness—peace is the final destiny of this world, no matter how many times men like you try to prevent it from taking root!" she extolled. "I won't let you take me, no matter the cost."

Shell clapped his hands together, then took on his own fighting stance. It was solid; a boxer's stance. His thin, black-gloved fists were turned toward the ceiling and his elbows were bent at ninety degrees. He hid his face behind his forearms, peeking between them with a single eye. "Show me, then, Lady Hinata. Show me the virtues of peace by _beating me to a bloody pulp_..." He tsked, delighting in the irony. As if to apologize for his quip, he softened his voice and relented a bit: "I understand, though...sometimes violence is a necessary solution to a complicated problem; even a pacifist's ideology has a few noteworthy _exceptions_." He gave himself a pat on the chest with his balled fist. "Come, then. Make the first move. Prove that the purpose assigned to me by my late mentor remains valid..."

"Your purpose...?" Hinata wondered aloud. She cast the thoughts to the back of her mind and obliged her adversary by moving first. Every inch of her muscle burned beneath her sweating skin, but it was seemingly a matter of life and death—adrenaline forced her body to move well beyond its reasonable safe range, and with her head dipped low she sprinted to close the minor gap. She was upon Shell within a moment, and she aimed a hand with fingers outstretched toward his left side. He moved to block, but he was unable to properly match her speed. Her fingertips connected harshly, but she felt a solid resistance beneath the cloth of his robe, and as the chakra she had lined her hand with was resisted, her fingernails pushed forward and were bent painfully against unmoving solidity. Hinata grunted and immediately retreated, shaking her hand to force the throbbing pain of impact away from her finger joints.

"Yes," Shell said stiffly. "My _purpose_." Although Hinata had failed to damage the man wearing it, the robe had been sheared by the chakra upon her fingertips. Somehow, she hadn't noticed with her Byakugan that the man beneath the robe was not simply flesh—or perhaps the change had been initiated while her attention was elsewhere. "In a sense, my purpose is to defeat _you_..."

Hinata changed her attack strategy—rather than extend her fingers, which had a high chance of being jammed by blunt resistance, she clenched her hands into tight fists, charging her knuckles with a pointed layer of chakra. Not as precise, but ultimately effective as a Jyuken strike. She moved in again, and Shell once more lifted his defenses to respond. He was able to deflect the first swing of her right fist with a bat of his wrist against hers, then he caught her forearm with his second hand, holding her tightly in place. For a moment, the pair seemed equally strong, struggling valiantly against one another. And then Hinata received another dose of adrenaline and it was proved that she had become _immensely_ strong. Shell was overcome, and Hinata pushed his arms back. He stepped away, trying to gain some distance. As his arms were tossed aside by Hinata's thrusting elbows, the precise woman aimed both fists for his chest. Her hands connected firmly, and once again she felt solid resistance, but her knuckles held strong and she forced chakra into her opponent.

Shell was blown back, but his feet didn't leave the floor. He was knocked directly backward, sliding out of his simple sandals, which allowed the bare soles of his feet to scrape across the wooden surface beneath him. He reached to his side, catching the arm of the couch to slow his slide, and he chuckled mirthfully. "Heh, so you're _far stronger_ than my intel suggested...but it doesn't matter." He reached his hand up to the shoulder of his robe—again, the cloth of it had been damaged by Hinata's strike against the chest, but he seemed unharmed beneath. He tore the material away, finding it to be useless to him as a tattered heap and tossing it into the unlit fireplace behind him. What lurked beneath the robe was a blackened husk in dark blue pants; human in shape, but not in composition. His chest, shoulders, arms, abdomen, neck, ears, and presumably every other feature from head to toe had been solidified. "My name is Shell, Lady Hinata, because of my unbreakable layer of defense..." He gave his chest a single rap with his hand, and the sound of pots clanging together echoed through the unfinished building. "I am a secret weapon against your _kind_ , Lady Hyuuga."

Hinata gasped lightly as she saw the extent of the man's defense—truthfully, she had seen it before the robe was removed thanks to her special sight, but to see him unveiled so purposefully sent a twinge of hesitation through her. Her strikes had been true; her chakra was extended and should have pierced into his pressure points. He should not have been standing, and yet he was. "A secret weapon? _Whose_ secret weapon?"

"My _mentor's_ weapon, of course...though, since his death, I have desperately sought the chance to fulfill my purpose once more...when it was offered to me, I accepted this task without hesitation." He licked his lips beneath his mask. "My Lord Danzo Shimura, the _true_ Sixth Hokage, nurtured and grew a very _intricate_ system; a system with the purpose of eliminating traitors against Konoha...Our village is the most powerful of all the five Hidden Villages; it is filled with shinobi who have mastered very _dangerous_ techniques. Techniques that are potent when wielded by allies, but equally fearsome in the hands of a defector...To be brief, my mentor once had an arsenal of specialists to counter each renowned strength within Konoha. For example's sake: to combat the powerful visual genjutsu of the Uchiha Clan, an assortment of blind shinobi with unique sensory gifts were selected. For the Nara Clan and their wicked shadow manipulation, shinobi capable of creating light to eliminate the shadows became the solution. Each and every forbidden, hidden, and bloodline jutsu from Konoha was given an answer by my esteemed master." Shell raised his hand, admiring his own metal-layered fist and flexing his fingers easily. The solid iron seemed to bend to his will without creaking or protesting. "As for me? _I_ am Lord Danzo's answer to the Hyuuga Clan. My Iron Skin technique is thick enough to prevent penetration by your clan's signature Jyuken style...so you can hit me all you like, but you will never bring me down. Not with feeble strikes like _that_."

Hinata looked to her knuckles; they were red from the pain of impact. Her chakra had been wasted against the iron hide of her opponent, and she was very close to running empty. She braced herself for the oncoming pain and she rushed for Shell again without answering his long-winded explanation. She didn't care if he _was_ a hand-chosen specialist who was specifically trained to defeat her clan; she wasn't going to let him defeat _her_. Not without a mighty struggle, at very least. Ignoring chakra for the moment, as it would have been wasted, she charged in. She recalled that his feet had been anchored to the floor despite being thrown backward by her strength; the iron upon the man's body must have been heavy. Aim low; topple him over.

Hinata feinted toward Shell's head, and he raised his guard to block, momentarily robbing himself of eye contact with her. Using that moment, Hinata pulled her fist back and dropped onto her back, sweeping her leg in an attempt to knock him off-balance with a heavy impact against his heels. She found the inside of his right ankle, though the left foot had stepped back defensively. One was enough, however; she connected fiercely and delivered enough force to tilt his balance. The weight of the iron cause Hinata's thigh to strain as she pushed against the man's leg, but eventually she was able to overcome the inertia and send his leg sliding out from under him. He stumbled backward with a grunt—teetering, but not falling. He righted himself with almost supernatural precision, then gave off a harsh laugh as he stabilized.

"Good strategy," He chided down to her. "Knock me off balance; use my weight against me." He clapped the metal palms together with appreciation as he hopped back and landed heavily on the floor, sending small cracks through the wood beneath him. "However, this defense is not my only trick...and its weaknesses are not so simple." He formed a seal with his hands, then gave a grunt. Hinata saw a surge of chakra flowing through Shell's system, then she felt the structural integrity of the building around her begin to wobble with motion. "I have total control of this armor upon my body—and _all_ of the metal in this place."

Hinata took a step back, clearing herself away from his striking range and putting up her defenses. The building was wobbling indeed, and she could see through the walls—the iron rods within the concrete were bending and flexing as if being tugged by giant magnets. _Total control,_ she thought to herself. _Could he have the power of Magnet Release?_ She felt like she was genuinely in trouble—she was surrounded by metal on all sides but down, and beneath her was a humming barrier that was only held off by the thin wooden floor. She had no means of escaping the building, but perhaps she could find a more advantageous position. As she thought, Shell went on the offensive.

His speed had doubled since Hinata had last traded blows with him; his presumed Magnet Release was being directed toward his limbs, augmenting the natural quickness of his muscles with an additional layer of force. Hinata raised her arm to block, and as a result her elbow was stricken by a solid metal fist. She felt a searing jolt of pain fly up her arm, and then it went numb for a moment. Just long enough for the second of Shell's jabs to strike her upon the chin, knocking her head up and taking the vision from her eyes for a half-second. She stumbled back, but like her opponent she didn't lose her balance. She ground her teeth together, checking for chips—nothing. She had taken a full hit but had endured it quite well. She smiled to herself as she realized her own durability; when had she become so tough? She didn't know, but she thanked her training and Sasuke's advice for honing her chakra.

Her opponent was still driving a flurry of blows her way, and whenever she blocked, she was rattled by the intensity of metal upon bone. She may have been sturdy enough to take the hits, but eventually her bones would give way. She had to work something out before that happened. She ducked the next fist, then side-stepped the following. A third swing, a haymaker from the left, gave her the opening she needed as she tilted herself to just barely avoid the hit. It whizzed past her face and she felt the powerful vacuum of wind behind it as it blew her hair away from her face. She clapped both fists together and charged her chakra, putting emphasis onto a single point between both clenched hands. The metal was strong, but _how_ strong?

Hinata impacted the male's chest in the same place she had struck earlier when she had blown him back; just like her own body's hardiness, the man's armor would _eventually_ break if stressed often enough in the same place. She connected with both hands, and she was rewarded with the sound of groaning iron and the feeling of the hardness giving way. She had dented him, and he stepped back with a grunt of surprise, clutching his chest where the blow had damaged him.

"Not bad," he said with a shortness of breath. "But if _that_ were all it took, I wouldn't be worthy of my title..." He concentrated behind his mask with furrowed brows, and with a powerful exertion of his Magnet Release, he forced the dent to repair itself with a creaking groan. "As I tried to tell you...my weaknesses are not so simple."

"But you _do_ have weaknesses..." Hinata replied with a panting breath. She had flipped backward, springing off of her hands and landing on her feet beside the door again. She kept her eyes on the assassin, kidnapper, or _whatever_ he was, and studied the way he carried himself. She didn't like what she saw. Her training that day had wiped her out both physically and mentally; her body was struggling to keep up the pace that had been set, and her head was beginning to feel fuzzy with exhaustion. Everything within her was screaming at her, telling her that she _needed_ to rest—but there was no rest coming.

"We've all got weaknesses, little girl. And I'm _yours_. After the dismal failure to capture your sister, a more... _targeted_ approach was demanded. Now _I'm_ here to get the job done." Shell replied while rolling his head from side to side, cracking some of the joints in his neck that had been strained by the impacts to his front. Even though the damage wasn't as extensive as it _should_ have been, the man was still feeling the hits. "It just so happens that you don't have the tools to put me down..." He charged again. Rather than face him head-on, Hinata sprang to her left, disappearing down the long hallway that was lined with numerous unfilled rooms. Shell growled with frustration and chased after her, using his magnetism to propel his iron-coated body with great speed. "Running isn't going to save you!"

Hinata found the staircase at the end of the hall, a zig-zagging affair with rails on one side but not the other. She struggled with her pain as she leapt up the flights one at a time to escape the wrath of the man below. She reached the second floor by grabbing onto an unfinished ledge and climbing upward. She felt the impact even more clearly than she saw it—Shell's head collided with the very bottom of the stairs, and the heavy wooden construction was completely shattered. Splinters scattered in every direction, and as Hinata managed to roll onto the safety of the upper floor, she braced her head and neck to protect against the falling bits of sharp wood. With a moment of distance between herself and her attacker, she scrambled to her feet and ducked into the third open doorway on the left. As she entered that room, she found that it was a kitchen—there were cabinets built from the ceiling and from the floor; there was no oven, yet, but there were plenty of drawers and a sink with no faucet installed. Apart from the counter that lined the wall, there was a separate, L-shaped island which would serve as a suitable hiding place—at least for a moment.

Hinata dove over the counter and silently landed on the side that was hidden from the doorway's view. She didn't need a lot of time—only _enough_ time. She steadied her breathing and pressed her back to the sturdy wooden stack of drawers built into the counter's base behind her. She clutched her chest and tried to calm her heart. She heard clunking from the hallway; Shell had ascended to the second floor, stairs be damned.

His gruff, agitated voice resounded through the hall. "You can't hide from me..." He said with a lingering silence. "This building is _filled_ with iron...and I can feel the vibrations of your heartbeat as it pulses into the floor..." He chuckled dramatically. "It'd be best for the both us if you just resigned to your fate..."

Hinata held her breath; she heard his footsteps come through the doorway. She heard faint rattling around herself, then activated her Byakugan for another 'pulse' to check her surroundings. She felt her chakra straining to keep up with the demands, but she saw what she needed to see—although the sink and oven weren't properly installed, the drawers had been stocked with utensils. Knives, forks, spoons, all made of heavy magnetic iron. Hinata shouted a non-specific curse as she immediately dove to the left, narrowly avoiding a sudden barrage of blades and egg beaters as they exploded from the drawers and cabinets to hone in on her location. She skidded across the floor on her back, and the metallic utensils were pulled out by magnetism and turned toward her again. She yelped and made another dive, this time grabbing the plastic handle of a cabinet door and yanking the whole thing off of its hinges—just before she would have been skewered by a selection of Konoha's finest cookware, she held the thick wooden panel out to catch the stabbing force of a dozen knives; the spoons bounced off after only making slight scuffs in the material.

"Enough games," Shell muttered from the other side of the counter; Hinata was still hidden beneath his line of sight, but her shrieks and cabinet antics had given her away, even if he _hadn't_ been able to sense her through the vibrating metal. "Let's get it over with. I take no joy in beating a harmless little girl, but I _do_ enjoy fulfilling my purpose..." He chuckled. "It's quite the conundrum, in fact..."

As Shell seemed to gloat about his perceived victory, Hinata detected her moment to strike. His guard was down. His eyes were closed. She saw it all with her splendid gaze through the cupboards. She formed the seals, she breathed the breaths, and she sprang onto her feet with a battlecry that came from her gut. " _Hyaaaaah_!" She exhaled with all of her might as her hands sparked to life. She vaulted over the counter head-first, then stretched both hands out with direct purpose—there was white lightning crackling at her fingertips, a powerful display of brightness that forced Shell's armored eyelids to pull open and reveal the startled whites of his eyes. He was about to say something vain and pointless, but then his chest was slammed by two overcharged palms of flying Hyuuga fury. The voltage connected to his armor, which became instantly electrified. Shell was trapped within his namesake as the shocking current ran up and down and side to side, scrambled with focused ferocity that represented the very last vestiges of Hinata's dwindling chakra. As she hit him, he locked up; his body was stunned, and his armor became one gigantic weakness. It delivered the pulsating blasts of lightning to every surface of his skin, digging deep and reaching into him to disable his movements.

He fell onto his back as Hinata straddled his stomach, pinning him down with the weight of herself in addition to the weight of his armor. He was shuddering beneath her while her hands continued to press against him. She pumped every single drop of chakra that was in her system, a final desperation move that was either going to win the fight, or seal her fate. She could see him struggling, she could feel his arms trying to move, but his chakra wasn't responding to him—the lightning had similar effects to the gentle fist, infused with Jyuken's properties to shut down the victim's chakra network from top to bottom.

Hinata expelled it all; every single bit. Shell began to sizzle beneath her, but just when he was on the verge of losing consciousness, a sharp pain struck the back of Hinata's skull. She turned her head to look behind her, but nothing was there—her own head had turned against her. The throbbing pain had been ignored thanks to a final surge of adrenaline, but her very self had finally reached the limit it had been so precariously dancing around. "Just...a little _more_..." Hinata told herself, biting her jaw tightly and trying her hardest to ignore the pain.

Her chakra ran out, and the lightning current stopped. Hinata gasped for air and clutched her throat to pull down on her skin and relieve the tightness all along her neck. She had tears welling in the corners of her eyes from the exertion, and her head began to swim. She was spent; entirely, woefully spent. She looked down to her enemy, and with horror she saw that his eyes were still open—his chest still rose and fell, despite taking a full blast of lightning. He was trembling beneath her, but not defeated.

"Not...bad..." Shell managed to cough; his lungs were practically fried, but for the most part, he was intact. "A little longer," he strained, flexing his fingers to regain control of himself one digit at a time. "And I might've been in real trouble..." He cackled underneath her, then with a mighty heave, he forced his right hand off the floor to swipe a backhand across Hinata's cheek, forcing her neck to jerk to the side. She was knocked off of his torso and sent tumbling across the floor. "But it wasn't enough..." He turned over and dragged himself onto his feet, running a hand down his armored form. "For a girl like you to be able to implement Jyuken into element-infused chakra...that's quite a rare feat." He took an imposing step toward her, allowing the thunk of his foot to resonate through the building.

Hinata was writhing with agony upon the floor; it all hurt so _bad._ She tried to cry out for help, but she couldn't bring herself to speak; her mouth was throbbing after taking an iron fist to the cheek and jaw. She tasted blood; her sturdiness had been overcome. It wouldn't take much more, she figured, to knock her unconscious. At that point, she would be helpless. _No,_ she thought to herself as she struggled to breathe. _I'll never be helpless again..._

She grabbed hold of the kitchen counter with shaking fingers, then dragged herself onto her feet. She realized that her left arm had been stunned by the way her shoulder had struck the floor while she was knocked away. "It's not over yet... _Shell_..." Hinata said with challenging spite. "You may be the counter to my clan, but you're not enough to put _me_ down..." She smirked, even though she felt battered and broken. She could only raise her right hand as her left hung limp at her side. Had she been in full fighting shape, the opponent in front of her would have been rather easily dealt with, but the strenuous nature of her extensive training had temporarily dragged her performance down considerably. "In fact...my father is _far_ stronger than you..." She struggled to stand straight, but she refused to fall. "Even my _sister_ is stronger than you..."

The devious traitor's mask was still upon his face, hiding his iron-laden expression. His armor seemed to move like skin; despite the lightning's effect upon his chakra, he seemed to have regained control of his technique rather swiftly. The metal layer showed no cracks, no dents; no flaws at all. On the surface, he seemed untouched. "But _you_ aren't stronger than me," Shell remarked with an arrogant tone.

"I _will_ be," she retorted. "After you _fail_ to defeat me, I'll become stronger than anyone in my clan..."

" _Tough_ _talk_ is still nothing but talk in the end, little girl," Shell belittled her with a sigh. He raised a hand with his fingers flexed; the floor beneath Hinata's feet erupted with movement. Some of the iron rods that had composed the ceiling of the first floor had been forced through the tiles underneath the confident girl's soles. One sprang up and out, coiling like a snake across Hinata's ankle and holding her in place. Still, she didn't lose her balance. She stared at Shell defiantly despite his overwhelming advantage. A second rod coiled her second ankle. She was pinned; her back was already to the wall, but that wall mercifully had no metal. Still, there were more rods beneath, and one rose up with a threatening wriggle as it hovered in the air.

The rod moved toward Hinata's throat. She tried to bat it away with her fist, but her arm was like jelly— _watered down_ jelly. The cold iron found her pale white neck without resistance and looped around beneath her jawline, squeezing her skin and depriving her of air with sadistic gradualness.

Hinata could still breathe, if only for a moment—in a last-ditch effort to find a way out, she forced her Byakugan to activate. She got a peep into the outside world; the people out there were ignorant to her pain, her struggles—perhaps her death. But aside from those oblivious, happy citizens, she also saw something else high in the sky, and she smiled with overwhelming, unashamed relief. "T-there's...one thing you didn't count on..." She gasped through her strained throat.

Shell tilted his head, ceasing his slow choke to allow her to speak. "Oh? And what's _that_?"

Hinata coughed as air was allowed into her lungs again, but it was barely even a drop of water compared to the comfort in the sky overhead. "My master...won't like what you've done to me..." she shakily told him.

"Kurenai Yuhi is no concern of mine..." He replied with ignorant arrogance.

Hinata managed to giggle; the relief was still so fresh in her head that she couldn't _believe_ how good she felt, despite being so nearly deprived of consciousness. "Your information...really _is_ out of date," she whispered with her eyes closed. Her head lulled to the side and her nose took in a slow breath. _It's okay, now._

Shell was once again going to say something smug, but an abrupt crash of the ceiling overhead interrupted his thoughts and shook the entirety of the building. Cement, plaster, and falling porcelain broke through the upper floor and came crashing down into the unfinished kitchen. There was a destroyed toilet among the wreckage; the bathroom overhead was likely going to need some renovations. At the center of the collected dust and debris, there was a lone figure dressed in black and indigo. He had a single arm, but two eyes—two very bright, distinct eyes with different shapes.

"Ah," Shell mused into the dusty air. He didn't _seem_ surprised in the sound of his voice, but he _was._ His barrier was supposed to be unbreakable...and in fact, it _hadn't_ been broken. It had been completely bypassed; ignored like a flimsy spiderweb. Whatever had happened, the barrier remained intact. Shell would have been sweating had his skin not been converted to iron. He knew who the intruding man was. "Has the cavalry arrived...?"

The temperature of the room had suddenly dropped by twenty degrees. After making brief eye contact with the man known as 'Shell,' the guardian angel from the sky turned his head to regard Hinata. His voice was quiet, but it cut through the sound of clattering rubble like a needle through a thin blanket. "Did this _scoundrel_ hurt you, Hinata...?" There was a promise in that voice—a promise of retaliation.

Hinata took a slow breath, unrestrained and free; the metal around her neck had abruptly vanished to a place that perhaps did not exist. The same was true for what had been binding her ankles. She weakly answered his question with tears in her eyes—tears of joy. She stepped backward and rested her shoulders against the wall, slowly sliding down. She felt comfortable; she could finally rest. Her savior had come for her, just as she knew he would. "Yes...his name is Shell, and he _hurt_ me..." she confirmed quietly.

Sasuke Uchiha turned to face the inhuman grub that prided himself on his 'purpose'. The Uchiha's eyes were gleaming with purity as he took in the sight of his student's attacker. "You _hurt_ her..." Sasuke declared with a calm face. His eyes, however, were anything _but_ calm. They were filled with a storm of rage; alight with monstrous resentment. Vengeance and power poured out of his unflinching stare. They bled light that was purple and red on opposite sides; each of them glowed with a singular thing locked into their ultimate gaze. He looked upon the man who had done this terrible thing; the thing that could no longer be taken back. It was a dreadful, unforgivable act that had brought about the return of a wrath that had laid dormant for quite some time. "You caused her _pain_..."

As he took a single, purposeful step toward the ironclad traitor...Sasuke Uchiha felt pure, unrestrained hatred for the first time in over three years.

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 **Hope you all liked this one! Just as a heads-up, the next chapter is an extremely important one in this story (for a couple of reasons) so don't miss it! As always, thank you for reading, and let me know what you think! If you have any questions or comments, you can either leave a review with a question, and I'll try my best to answer it with a PM, or more directly you can send a PM and guarantee a response.**

 **See you next time!**


	27. Rage

**Enjoy! It gets a little brutal, but you probably saw that coming after the ending of the last one.**

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The first step was silent, but the weight of Sasuke's anger resonated through the entire building as a shudder of air. The whole atmosphere seemed to flex around Sasuke's will, sucking the oxygen out of the room and making it difficult for others to breathe. Shell was watching the Uchiha make his approach; the assassin's mask hid his smirk, but the forward tilt of his head and the arrogant tone of his voice implied his confidence: "Sasuke Uchiha," he muttered smoothly, squaring his feet and setting his hands low, fists clenched and fingers grinding against his iron palms. He flexed his shoulders and tilted his head, cracking joints in his neck with a metallic groaning sound. "I had been hoping to challenge you, some day," the disgraced guard continued. "I'm glad that you've spared me any further waiting by laying yourself at my feet..."

Sasuke said nothing in return. It's not that he _had_ nothing to say—on the contrary, his mind was completely overloaded with things to deliver to that sinister creature across the room. He was a single step closer than he had been; the first movement ended with a halting significance. Sasuke heard the man's lack of fear and recognized it right away—Sai tended to speak with the same calmness. Fearless; obedient. To a _point_ , that is. That point was going to be stretched to its limit; curiosity as to what that limit was had forced the angered demigod to take his time. Patience, he assured himself. You will hear his screams before the night is over. Sasuke took another step, deliberately making his approach an ominous one. He intended to give the slime another _three_ steps before delivering his wrath; a full, unspoken count of five. It was only fair.

Shell brought his hands together as he analyzed his 'opponent.' He was so delusional as to believe that he actually stood a _chance_ ; in fact, he thought that knowing who Sasuke was had given him some kind of _advantage_. He even had the gall to chuckle at the silence of his slayer, mistaking it for shock. "That's right—I know exactly who you are," Shell asserted. His hands slammed against one another, palms flat—he groaned and flexed his chakra. The building's integrity suffered slightly as the dark, shirtless golem ripped several dangling rods out of the ceiling that Sasuke had blown through. Above that one, there was no hole—the sky could not be seen. It was as if the Uchiha had only forced his way destructively through a single layer and ignored the one above it, yet that could not be true—there was a sturdy roof above, and no windows existed on that level. Shell was unfettered by the ghostly nature of his latest challenger as he brought half-a-dozen pilfered four-foot-long rods together in front of himself, primed to launch as if they were spears pointed forward; their pattern of flotation had them framing his shoulders and head dangerously. "You possess the Mangekyo Sharingan and the Rinnegan; powerful eyes indeed...but their effectiveness is hindered by this confined space." He twirled the floating rods with a flex of his will, causing them to rotate on their central axes; gradually, the wild spinning combined with finely-tuned magnetism curved the inch-thick poles into open, O-shaped discs. He began forcing their edges to sharpen by force of magnetism alone, turning the rounded sides into sharp, slicing blades. "I know that you won't risk using Susano'o; your little _princess_ over there might get bruised if you do...I have the _advantage_ in here."

Sasuke's eyes were terrifyingly placid; he did not blink, and he did not cast his gaze upon the improvised weaponry that was twirling in front of him. He was still half-a-room away from Shell, but his will latently filled the entirety of the structure. Sasuke could crush the poor thing like an ant at any time, but he waited. He wanted a few certain things—first of all, he wanted that man to feel helplessness. In fact, he wanted Shell to feel _every_ emotion that Hinata had felt during their battle: Helplessness, pain, and fear. Sasuke chose to start with helplessness, because bringing about the others would be so much more _fun,_ andit would be a shame if he didn't save the best for last.

Shell fired the first one of his newly forged twirling black frisbees straight ahead; it launched instantly, with speed that rivaled that of a lightning crack. His Magnet Release was truly formidable, but its potency did not matter to Sasuke. As it got close to Sasuke's chest, the harshly spinning projectile was suddenly repelled by what seemed to be a transparent glass marble, which encircled the Uchiha's body as a globe. The iron had collided with the sphere as if both opposing forces were made of bouncy gel; the tool stopped its spin and fell to the floor with a useless backward clatter, splitting in half and then scattering into smaller pieces a few paces from Sasuke's feet. Shell's forehead scowled above the rim of his mask, but he laughed beneath it. Again, he thought he had stumbled upon the upper hand. "Ahh," he said with unflappable coolness. " _Shinra Tensei_ —the 'almighty push'...A powerful defensive and offensive technique...but with a single limitation." Shell raised his hand and fired off the remaining five discs with urgency—the sudden impatience was the first sign of his unease, despite his confident assertion. " _It can only be used once per five seconds!_ "

The quintuplet of discs reached Sasuke before the third second of the interval had even begun, and yet they were stopped in precisely the same way as the first. The transparent orb of pure force came into existence with a hollow _swooshing_ sound, then dissipated after the circular blades were split down the middle by an invisible, precisely-manipulated force. Sasuke took his third step, moving over the broken remnants of Shell's initial assault. He never broke eye contact with the man's masked gaze; he wanted to see the very moment in which that beast recognized the futility of his efforts. The five second limitation, Sasuke knew, belonged to the villain who had cratered the Leaf—the one called Pain. Unfortunately for Shell and the person who provided him with intel, Pain was not an Uchiha; the eyes were never _his_. Sasuke _had_ no such limits, but he allowed Shell to believe he could be stopped, nonetheless. He was even deliberately avoiding the use of Susano'o as a way of allowing his enemy to believe that there was a glimmer of hope—that maybe he had been _right_ , that such an unstoppable, monstrous technique couldn't be risked.

Shell took a ragged breath after his second attack failed. _More than once within five seconds?_ he thought to himself with dreadful surprise; he then took a step backward, an unconscious one that his body forced him to make. He felt suddenly cornered. _This wasn't how things were supposed to be._ "You're interfering with a mission that _far_ _surpasses_ the importance of _one girl_ , Sasuke Uchiha..." He said firmly, but also tentatively, as if he had practiced the speech but found himself doubting his own words as he spoke them. The cold, clear focus of the Sharingan/Rinnegan combo as it stared at him was beginning to rattle his tempered nerves. He didn't dare allow the worry to show through his own eyes, though. He was once a part of _Root_ ; he was not some _weak_ individual with no capacity to control his urges. Even if that urge was a desire for retreat that came directly from the brain stem, he fought it down. He still had the upper hand—Hinata Hyuuga was still in the room, still vulnerable. No matter how powerful Sasuke might have been, Hinata was still the _goal_. "This village is _rotting_ , and it's the fault of complacency. We cannot sit idly and allow the Leaf to wither away, neither you _nor_ I!" He shouted intensely, then exerted a huge portion of his chakra. As he growled, the ceiling above and floor below rattled with steady vibration, cracking and waving before several massive chunks of concrete broke loose from the structure with solid snaps, leaving person-sized holes in the walls and floors to give Shell a dozen massive, uneven gray bricks of ammunition to hover in front of himself. The strain of carrying them was visible in his arms; he was trembling with the might it took to control all of that weight with just a scarce few iron bars laced within.

Sasuke, again, said nothing. He took the fourth step—but the fifth and _final_ step was put on hold. He wanted to see what infantile effort was going to come of those fruitlessly-ripped blocks. Was Shell planning to bring the entire building down by tearing up its structure? No, the remaining pieces were more than enough to hold the place upright. Was he going to throw them pointlessly upon Sasuke? Perhaps. However, the obvious move for a piece of garbage that had been backed into a corner was to make a desperate strike upon the weakest target in the room—Hinata was leaned against the corner wall, gasping for air and clutching her chest. Sasuke heard each breath she took; he could tell by the depth of her gasps that she wasn't _completely_ beaten, actually. She could have continued to fight, despite how ragged she looked. But she didn't have to. Sasuke had come, and he was going to save her. Shell had foolishly thought that to be in service to his _own_ advantage _._

" _Hyaaaah!_ " Shell strained his voice and forced the dozen massive blocks of concrete to skirt around Sasuke and converge toward the corner of the room behind him with relentless speed; Hinata was his target indeed. If he couldn't _take_ her, then he was going to crush her where she lay. The wide, pale eyes of the Hyuuga girl's sudden fright became a rewarding visual for the sadistic masked grin. As she saw the attack coming, Hinata winced and pressed her back against the wall, raising her arms with great effort to protect her face and head. As the heavy projectiles flew through the air with unflinching quickness, Sasuke began his fifth step.

The concrete bricks stopped moving mid-air, hovering with indecision several paces away from Hinata. They had never even gotten close to her. Shell was still exerting a tremendous force of chakra, spending more and more of it by the moment as he struggled to overcome the horrifyingly strong grip that had frozen his sure-fire attack in its place—all twelve blocks were stopped, as if time had simply ceased ticking. With startled understanding, he looked to Sasuke with a grunt, and he tried to redirect the iron-laden concrete toward the Uchiha, as if trying to use the opposing force to aid his own change in direction. It didn't work; the iron was no longer obeying his commands as it should have been. He gulped, and his breaths deepened with tiredness. He realized far too late that his pitiful magnetism was _nothing_ compared to the power of the Rinnegan. Shell, of course, could control the weight, shape, and position of metal through a powerful force of magnetism—but the Rinnegan had no such paltry restrictions. It did not care whether its influence was placed upon iron, steel, wood, air, flesh, bone, or even another person's chakra...its dominion was absolute. Shell had regrettably learned something _new_ that day.

"Time's up," Sasuke murmured as the final warning step landed upon the floor with the thunk of a rubber sole upon tile. The concrete which had been aimed at Hinata was then propelled with double the initial speed in the opposite direction, all converging upon Shell with a monstrous crack of solid materials striking upon a construct of metal. Shell was slammed by each block, being thrown left and right by the onslaught of massive force, but despite stumbling and groaning he kept his footing, and his armor held up without breaking. The final block was shattered by impact against Shell's chest, but still the target did not lose his balance. As the dust of the barrage settled, Sasuke smirked with a sarcastic compliment. "You've got quite the defense," he remarked; Iron rods and watermelon-sized chunks of fractured cement had been strewn all around the floor from the broken pieces.

Shell panted and took another step back. "Bansho Tenin," he recited, giving a known name to the unseen interference to his assault. "The _universal_ _pull_..." His arms were lightly slumped and his breaths were hard; although he didn't _show_ the pain he felt after so many crushing impacts, it was making his nerves thump and his body ignore his own will. Eventually, though, he pulled himself back together and straightened his back and shoulders. His previously sculpted chest had been dented in several places by the impact of his own redirected attack, but with a flex of his power the armor was repaired and reshaped to show a flawless chest and abdomen. "But even with the Rinnegan, it's incredibly that you're so quickly and powerfully able to control such gravitational forces with that kind of _precision_...Sasuke Uchiha, you are a remarkable specimen." Shell leaned forward; his body seemed ready to make another attack, but Sasuke could see that the man's chakra had been largely drained during the struggle to fight off the influence of the Rinnegan. _I've got enough in me for one more assault,_ Shell told himself. He looked to the iron that had been scattered all along the floor. That amount would have to be enough to serve his needs. First, he intended to shape enough of the rods to throw at Sasuke; once Shinra Tensei had been activated to defend, he would send the other half of the iron toward Hinata, leaving no room for Sasuke to respond with another technique. If nothing else, Shell knew his _mission_ had to be completed. The _mission_ was the most important thing he had—more important than his own survival by far.

Shell formed a quick sequence of seals with the purpose of aiding him in utilizing the dwindling reserves of his chakra—just as the iron began to tremble and rise from the floor, though, Shell's vision went oppressively dark and he felt the pressure of a hand upon his face, squeezing his mask with dreadful purpose. Sasuke's voice came through thin air and whispered toward the helpless foe's ear: "I said _time's up_ ," he reminded quietly. "Now it's _my_ turn." The iron dropped to the floor before it had been fully lifted, clattering in uselessness; Sasuke had instantly broken his opponent's concentration. The hand upon the faceplate gently squeezed, and the turtle-esque mask was shattered without ceremony. Shell shuttered his eyes shut and groaned as small, sharp fragments threatened to stick into the only soft parts of his body. As the porcelain-white layer fell away, Sasuke's fingers clutched deeper. His middle finger was clamped onto the bridge of Shell's nose, bending the iron armor with ruthless intentions; his pointer and ring fingers were on opposite cheek bones; his thumb and pinky had a vise grip upon the armored chin. Shell was being pushed back by even, patient steps until his back was pinned to the far wall. His nose's armored barrier was dented in by a slight push of Sasuke's middle finger; Shell's breaths were being halted. He struggled to draw in air, but his mouth was also forced shut by the grip on his face. He struggled, he writhed, and his hands lifted to Sasuke's arm and tried to force him away, but it was useless.

Sasuke delighted in the futile clawing; he felt Shell's armored fingers clamping down on his skin. Even the bulky man's _fingernails_ were layered with iron, becoming rather sharp as consequence. They were not enough to break Sasuke's tough skin, though. He stood in silence while he allowed the man who had hurt Hinata to suffocate. _Helplessness_. One down. Without warning, Sasuke pulled his hand away and allowed Shell to breathe with a mighty gasp of air. The arrogant ex-Root soldier clutched his chest the same way Hinata had been doing as he doubled over. It was a refreshing dose of turnabout, and Sasuke was far from done. "How does it feel?" Sasuke asked the impotent traitor. "You know by now that there's not a _thing_ you can do to stop me..." The Uchiha grinned with his own sort of sadism. "It must be like a nightmare..."

Shell wanted to answer, but his lungs superseded him and forced him to continue breathing harshly with no interruption. He eventually managed to gasp through the influx of needed air, shouting up to Sasuke with vitriol. "You're making a _mistake_!" He shakily brought himself back onto his feet, and his chest lurched with every breath. " _I'm_ not the one who should be punished...it's this _false Hokage_... _he's_ the man who is leading us into _ruin!_ _He'll make Konoha weak. We'll all crumble beneath his rule!"_

Sasuke wasn't in the mood to humor such a dull discussion. His inner rage was growing; Hinata had been hurt. He was doing it for _her_. And he felt that he had waited long enough for his adversary to catch some breaths. It was time for step two. _Pain._ Sasuke allowed a moment for Shell's anger to boil up as well; he could easily see it coming. Usually, when a misguided zealot was amidst a desperate rant, the next evolution was— _there_ it was, even sooner than expected. The winded iron man howled with purpose and lifted his right fist, seeking to punch Sasuke across the jaw without much finesse. The doomed punch was caught by an open palm without effort; Sasuke trembled with enjoyment as he felt the solid weight of the hand made impotent beneath his own fingers; he closed his grip around Shell's knuckles. He spoke quietly, but his tone dripped with violence. "You _hurt_ her...and now I'll hurt _you_." With a simple flex of his hand, Sasuke sent a rippling crack through Shell's iron armor. Small fragments flaked off, but they were quickly replaced and resealed by a reflexive function of magnet style, ensuring that no damage made was ever permanent.

Sasuke smirked. "Your defense really _is_ impressive," he recalled with sarcastic flair. "Until now, I've been treating scum like _paper_...for you, however, I think I can graduate to _cardboard_..."

"Cardboard...?" Shell scowled. His face was turned to pure resentment and helpless anger. His mouth was contorted into a furious frown, his upper lip wrinkled and tightly flexed as his armor moved with fine detail to accommodate the subtleties of the expression. "Don't mock me, you _little_ —" His mouth was overcome by a forced, but _subdued_ groan of agony. Sasuke had tossed Shell's captured hand aside; the force of even such a _simple_ movement had knocked the entire arm attached to that hand out of its socket before its whole length was slammed heavily into the wall at his back. As he tried to use his Magnet Release to force the limb back into place, the villain's other hand swung in a wild rage. Shell wasn't thinking properly; he was desperately clawing for _any_ means of completing his mission. Worse than any other thought came the realization that there was no cavalry set up for him—he had no means of abducting Hinata without first getting through Sasuke. He hadn't foreseen complications, but he was determined to break through them. The fury of that singular goal, that unflinching _need_ to complete the mission, was all condensed onto the front of a mighty, bullet-like fist that cracked the air with a sonic boom.

Sasuke caught that second attack with his fingers using no effort; his muscles didn't even flex with any amount of strain. This time, Sasuke seized the wide-swung attempt by the wrist and caught it completely flat. As Shell struggled in vain to free his hand, he was toyed with: "Does it hurt?" Sasuke mocked, giving a glance to the dislocated shoulder on one side of the man's body. "If it does, it's not nearly as bad as _this_ will be," he added roughly. There was a boiling rage in his voice. Each grunt of pain and each thrash of helpless desperation caused Sasuke's mind to lose just a little bit more of its rationality. He steadily remembered how _good_ it felt to be in control; how powerful of a sensation it was to cause pain to another human. With the second arm in his grip and Shell's visibly stunned eyes glaring up at him, Sasuke pulled the full length of the captive iron limb outward and turned it over with a twist of his own wrist so that the underside was the upper side. Shell's pointed elbow joint was facing the floor. Sasuke heaved Shell's arm upward, then yanked it downward. A knee was raised; the harsh, solid bone of said knee collided with the armored, stiff connection of Shell's elbow—a crack louder than any other sound had been that night suddenly echoed through the room, then proceeded through the rest of the building with a resounding, repeated sharpness.

The iron gave way around the elbow like breaking glass, its pieces so thoroughly shattered and blown away that the automatic magnetic repair had no means of taking the fragments back. As the pressure of Sasuke's knee passed through the initial layer he felt soft, human flesh beneath—then hard, resistant bone beyond that. The resistance was overcome in less than an instant as the arm was pulled forcefully downward. Knee met elbow, and knee won. The elbow was snapped in a very incorrect direction; the arm it was attached to was suddenly bent inversely and the shattered bone encased in flesh became entirely useless. Shell gave another stern grunt of pain, but he refused to cry out. Sasuke released the man after both of his arms had been made effectively useless, and the metallic body stumbled away with a growing need to escape. The bright gaze of Sasuke's Sharingan gleamed in the darkness as it took in all the tiny shudders and losses of control. The poised Anbu had become a twitching mess, yet he remained on his feet. His sickly-askew right limb was dangling like the dislocated left, but Shell somehow avoided making a scream of agony.

That composure was beginning to tick Sasuke off. "Come out," he whispered, reaching up for Shell's face again. His target tried to lean away and kick at Sasuke's legs, but it was as futile as everything else had been. "Come out," Sasuke repeated, more firmly and with a wicked grin growing on his face. " _Come out of your shell_!" Using his grip upon his enemy's face, Sasuke pulled Shell's entire body up into the air, carrying him in an arch overhead and then slamming the top of his armored skull into the floor beneath. The impact was colossal; the building heaved underfoot as the concrete and iron bracing of the second floor was completely dissolved. As Sasuke fell through the thick, punctured layer of flooring along with his prey, he positioned both feet onto Shell's chest, then gave a heave of his hips and knees to force the helpless victim through the ground floor as well. When the hardwood of the first floor shattered, the gleaming barrier was revealed a few inches below. Shell's back was shoved down by Sasuke's weight; the victim collided with his own barrier from behind and felt the horrific burn of the yellowish, pulsating energy as it transmitted heat through his armor and scorched his back.

Still, it wasn't enough to make him _scream_. The emotional nullification training that Danzo must have put the man through was holding up, even in the face of such brutal torture. Sasuke frowned as he watched Shell writhe and sizzle, but the beast simply would not give the satisfying howl the Uchiha had been anticipating. Sasuke reached down and gripped the resilient foe by the neck, lifting him out of the pit that had been made in the floor, then he tossed him nonchalantly aside. As casual as the toss had been, the force was still tremendous. Sasuke was losing control of his strength, and as a consequence, Shell slammed clean through one concrete wall and then hit a second one within an empty room, being firmly shoved into it and cracking the gray solidity from top to bottom. His armor was beginning to flake away without repairing itself; the fun was almost over. Sasuke raised his hand and stepped sideways, putting a layer of unbroken wall between himself and his target. _Bansho Tenin._ Shell was yanked from the crater in the secondary room by an unseen force and pulled through the second unbroken layer of concrete to find Sasuke's grip around his neck once more. Although Shell was still conscious, his voice was no longer heard. He had no more defiance; no more arrogance. But he had yet to _scream_ , and Sasuke was growing frustrated.

Sasuke sighed and began to shake his head. "Disappointing," he muttered. "I had hoped for you to resist a bit more than _this_..." One more throw for good measure, this time sending the heavy iron-encrusted human into the fancy brick fireplace across from the front door; the whole construct collapsed in dusty clouds as fractured red-and-brown building blocks were sent ricocheting around the room. "If you die before you scream for me, then how do you expect me to be _satisfied_...?"

With Shell pinned to the wall and buried from foot-to-thigh by heavy brick remnants, Sasuke drew his sword and vaulted it forward, tossing it like a javelin and infusing it with a moderate current of lightning chakra. The sparking missile struck Shell's lower left abdomen, impaling him easily through the thick armor and poking out the other side to bolt him to the back wall with a swift _thunk_. The blade had been aimed to avoid vital spots, but the man in iron may as well have already been dead; he couldn't even move to resist the cold metal being shoved through his internal warmth. Although he was quite clearly defeated, Shell looked to Sasuke unflinchingly with blood trickling down his lips and chin. Beneath the layer of armor, he had been battered brutally. No doubt there were internal injuries in addition to the sword through the edge of his gut. Sasuke had no remorse; no pity. He thought of Hinata— _her_ mouth had been bleeding, too. For her, it was a superficial wound; she was strong. Still, the thought of that woman being in pain inspired a terrible pressure within Sasuke's head. As the pressure grew, his thoughts became corrupt; his intentions turned to vengeance. Sasuke stepped over to Shell with boiling rage, and it was too late. His rage had progressed too far; he couldn't let the man live anymore.

Sasuke grabbed the conscious-but-silent heap by the throat and squeezed; iron broke instantly beneath the pressure of his fingers. The shards fell down and trickled across the floor like dropped coins. The hand upon Shell's neck was slowly, deliberately sucking the chakra out of his system. Moment by moment, the quiet struggle of the armored man was becoming weaker. The metal layers fell away one piece at a time as the energy required to keep them fluidly attached was being stripped away like flesh from a hunted deer. Shell's mangled arms were fully disarmed of their protection first, then his torso. The tanned skin beneath his armor was covered with old scars and scorch marks, creating a crude map that showed a long history of pain. No wonder he didn't scream; he had been through _worse_ physicaltortureat the hands of Danzo. As he drained the dwindling chakra and made progress toward a slow kill, Sasuke began to pull, yanking Shell away from the wall and causing the sword within him to slide back and forth, cutting new wounds inside and out. The blade was coated with dark redness, dripping some of the fluid onto the floor below. Shell was then slammed back into the wall, his entire body lurching and his throat coughing wetly.

"You hurt her..." Sasuke said once more, his voice quietly deranged. As he stared at the object of his hatred, his Rinnegan began to drip with blood along the edges of the socket. He aimed to assign a slow, consuming death; Shell was to be burnt from the bottom up by Amaterasu. _That_ would be a fitting end for such a treacherous animal. "Now _die_." Just as his eye was filled with the proper balance of chakra, Sasuke felt a very slight weight upon his shoulder; it was an odd, _tender_ feeling that urged him to turn his head, and he did so with furious suddenness. He looked behind himself, and he unexpectedly saw the fierce spirit of purity that he had grown to admire—and what he had come there to protect. She was surrounded by a gleam of white light, but Sasuke couldn't tell if it was a part of reality or only a scrubbing presence that grated against his hatred. All it took was a single peer into her eyes, and his own eye dispelled the chakra that had been building, taking it back into his system. Her hand was on his shoulder, tears were welling along her eyes where blood had dripped from his, and everything upon her face, in her gaze, and within her voice was begging him breathlessly to calm down.

"S-sasuke," came the weakened whisper of Hinata from behind him. She had managed to crawl her way through the hole in the second floor, slump onto the wooden surface far beneath, and drag herself to her feet without Sasuke having noticed. He was so wrapped up in his brutality that he had almost forgotten that Hinata was even nearby. His mind had been full of her spirit, of her beauty; his nose held her scent, but his eyes had been seeing red. Feeling her touch, hearing her voice; her soft, _pleading_ voice, was what it finally took to pull him toward his senses again. He stood speechless in front of her, his hand locked around the unarmored, bloody man's throat as if he still intended to finish him off.

Sasuke locked his stare upon Hinata for almost a full minute as he realized he had been panting. The sound of his own breaths had been drowned out by the rush of boiled blood through his ears. In fact, _all_ of his hearing had been muted; had she been calling out to him all along? He took a slow breath through his nose, seeking to calm himself. He took in the aroma of Hinata's closeness; he focused on the tiny touch of her hand upon his shoulder through his shirt. He slowly, carefully unlatched his hand from around Shell's throat one finger at a time and pulled away from him, though the battered victim was still pinned upright. "I'm sorry that you had to see that, Hinata," Sasuke said in a dull monotone. "But...it isn't over yet. There's _one_ thing I still need to do."

Hinata flinched a little bit at the thought. She had seen so much violence already—and she had been almost entirely helpless to stop him once he had begun. She had wanted his help, but she didn't realize what that _meant_. From the moment Sasuke had clutched Shell's face and sadistically robbed him of breath, she had been calling to him—but he hadn't answered. She had been ignored in favor of whatever mad blood lust had been coursing through the Uchiha's veins and eyes. She had always wondered exactly _why_ people were so terrified of Sasuke, and after beholding that fury, she finally knew—she had at last seen the monster lurking inside of him, the one that had been waiting to be unleashed. Had he simply killed Shell on the spot, Hinata wouldn't have been so _horrified_. No, it wasn't about killing—it was about torture; sadism. It was about _hatred_. "W-what else...is there to do?" Hinata asked, worrying about the answer.

Sasuke took his hand and laid it upon Hinata's; they were both dirty with dust and debris, but the warmth between them was unmistakeable. It was definitely the same hand that Hinata remembered taking hold of in front of the village—the same man she had invited home. _That_ was the man who had so cruelly torn Shell apart from the top down. And it was the same man who spoke to her then; that man offered but a single word of explanation. What else did Shell deserve? " _Fear_." And then he turned his head back toward Shell, grabbed him by the top of the skull, and opened his Rinnegan wide. Within an instant, a genjutsu was cast—a genjutsu that showed Shell every terrible thing that could have been done to him, had Hinata not interfered.

The once-stoic Root agent erupted into a horrified shriek, high-pitched and almost childish in its purity. His mouth was forced open against the will of its own muscles; to _move_ was agony, but to _hold_ _still_ was completely impossible. His eyes were spread open and grew bloodshot, and his voice continued to get louder and more desperate as seconds dragged on. His throat wore itself raw with the sheer intensity of his unbroken howl of terror. His destroyed arms were thrashing about from side to side as if he were trying with all of his might to reach his head—to force the grueling visions to _stop_. He could do nothing. He _felt_ nothing but pain, _heard_ nothing but his own screams, and _saw_ nothing but glimpses into hell. After nearly thirty unending seconds of torturous hallucination, Shell's body finally succumbed to its physical and mental agony before falling limp against the wall. Finally, he was silent. His eyes were closed, his shoulders sagged. He was motionless, but the faint sound of breath could still be just barely heard. Shell was alive—though his condition was no doubt very delicate.

Hinata had covered her ears to protect herself from the man's roaring, and her eyes were shut to protect herself from the grotesque sight of his open mouth. It had gone far wider than she knew a man's jaw could move. When there was silence, she peered at Sasuke, then the man on the wall—the sword had been taken out and re-sheathed behind Sasuke's back, and Shell was dangling to his side, still propped up by the pile of bricks framing his legs. Sasuke stared at him with trembling regret. "Unfortunately..." Sasuke murmured through a slow exhale, trying to force the latent anger out through his lungs. "We need him _alive_." He turned to face Hinata, but only after his eyes turned black. It had taken quite an effort, and finally the struggle was over. He was himself again. "Are you alright, Hinata? How badly were you hurt?" He reached his hand out to touch her, but Hinata stepped backward by instinct with her nose quickly swelling and shrinking with the flow of rapid, fearful respiration.

"I-I..." She started, but she couldn't speak to him right away. She took another step back from her master, and thankfully he didn't pursue. Sasuke stood there with his hand out, suspended in stillness from the moment Hinata refused to allow him to touch her. He seemed hurt, but he also seemed to understand. "Did _I_ make you do that...?" Hinata asked quietly, covering her mouth with her hand and fearing the answer.

"He made you _suffer_. I only returned the favor." Sasuke took his hand down and turned away. After a moment of heavy silence between the pair, he whispered into the shadows. "Thank you for stopping me...If I had killed him, I may have regretted it."

Hinata gulped. "B-but do you regret _torturing_ him...?"

" _No,_ "Sasuke answered with unbroken clarity. "In fact, he deserves _worse_." He clenched his muscles from head to toe, then looked up at the ceiling before closing his eyes. Aside from Hinata's enticing aroma, he smelled blood and horrible things. He heard nothing but Hinata's worrisome silence and the subdued, gentle hum of the yellow barrier around the building. "I'm sorry that I took so long to find you, Hinata..." Sasuke spoke apologetically, trying to change the direction of their discussion. "I hesitated to follow you home, and by the time I went after you, you had vanished. Had your scent not led up to this barrier, I don't know that I would have ever known what was happening..."

"I'm just glad you came," Hinata said sincerely, realizing that her fear was not of Sasuke himself, but of her role in what happened. He wasn't just torturing a man for the sake of it—he was _avenging_ her. It was her own weakness that compelled Sasuke to act so ferociously. "I-I'm okay, now...are _you_ , Sasuke? Were you hurt?" She recovered from her visceral aversion to the imposing Uchiha, taking a step closer despite the pain throbbing in her legs. She reached a hand out toward his chest and she laid her fingers against his shirt. It was soft to the touch, despite how harsh the man wearing it seemed to be.

Sasuke brought his hand to hers, clutching it gently as she laid it upon him. "I'm not hurt," he said with an almost humorous smile. Her concern was so genuine that it was as if she hadn't seen how one-sided the battle had been. He tried to wish away the memory of the way she had looked at him just a moment earlier—she had been _afraid_ of him, even if it was a temporary condition. He made a mistake; he had shown her his true colors. _No,_ he corrected himself. _That isn't_ _ **me**_ _anymore. Just a phantom..._

Hinata smiled gratefully. Despite the carnage that surrounded them and the flecks of blood that smeared the walls, she was calm. Her hand was in his, and her other reached up to close around them both, clasping Sasuke's fingers with hers and feeling her heart speed up as it always did when she was close to him. "I'm...not as hurt as it _looks_ like I am, actually..." she admitted with a guilty blush. "He got me when I was still worn out from training, that's all..."

"You did well," Sasuke answered, letting his fingers lock with some of Hinata's. He looked her up and down and could see that she did have a _few_ injuries, though they were mostly superficial. A bruise beginning to color beneath her jawline, a bloody lip, a tenderness in her right ankle that caused a slight limp. It would all heal on its own.

"I got _beaten_ , though," Hinata answered with hushed shame. She wanted to be stronger than that; a month of training hadn't even been enough to overcome a _single_ opponent. Was she deluding herself?

"No," Sasuke corrected, taking his hand gently out of her grip and digging it into the pouch that was still slung over his shoulder. The thick sack was dirty, but not damaged. He pulled out a familiar white kerchief, then brought it to Hinata's lip to dab away the lingering, slowly-drying blood. The leak had already stopped. She was very tough indeed. "Your body was momentarily subdued, but you weren't _beaten_...Even if I _hadn't_ shown up, you could have defeated him."

Hinata furled her brows, doubting what he said—but while she doubted, she was also melting in response to what he had brought to her lip. The touch of that white cloth in Sasuke's hand was becoming a trigger for her; it made her feel fluttery and warm every time. Butterflies took residence in her stomach and they didn't want to leave until she was free of the gentle caress. She took an unknowing step closer to him while he gently dried her mouth and chin. With her eyes closed and her words hollowed, she asked a question to keep her mind from wandering too far away from the reality of their situation. "How do you _know_ that I would have defeated him...?"

"Because you're _you_ ," he answered with a smirk. "You were firm on your feet when I arrived...you hadn't given up. Hadn't even thought of it." He kept the handkerchief in place, sliding it along her jawline and her cheek long after she had been tidied up. Just as she loved the feel of it against her skin, _he_ loved the way she leaned into the slight pressure and worked off of the delicate movements. It was like a dance that they shared; a rather unique one. "And as long as you haven't given up, you haven't lost."

Hinata nodded slowly, accepting the message of what he said even if she didn't actually believe that she could have won. "C-can you take me home, please, Sasuke?" She asked, feeling selfish. She knew that there was a lot to be done—unconscious bodies to account for and restrain, people to contact, and explanations to give. But she didn't care about any of that. She just wanted to go _home_. She had already spent far too much time in the once-pristine, half-constructed luxury suite. It provided entirely the _wrong_ _kind_ of accommodations.

"In a moment," Sasuke answered, taking the cloth away at last, regrettably. He folded it over, tucking the light pink splotch of diluted blood underneath a few layers of fabric before he dropped it into his small satchel. " _These_ guys will probably keep," he said with certainty. "But even so..." He raised his hand, stepping around Hinata and reaching down into the broken planks of the floor where he had stuffed Shell against his own barrier. Sasuke's finger touched the yellow layer after he formed a few obscure handsigns. "I've analyzed the structure of this barrier—it's designed to last for a set period of time, whether its user survives or not." After tapping it with his finger, the barrier's yellow color began to ripple; another hue started to take over like ink poured into a tub of water. It turned from sunny to shadow, overtaken entirely by violet chakra that belonged to Sasuke. "And now this barrier is _mine_. From the outside, it will appear as if this building is untouched. Even if one of these men comes to, which I doubt, he'll have no means of escaping or calling for help." He turned back toward Hinata and gave her a soft assurance. "I'll come back for them once I've made sure that you're safely at home."

Hinata looked around her feet and out of the open front door to see that the barrier had completely changed over to Sasuke's control. He had fully copied and reversed it with nothing more than a glance? "H-how did you even get in here, Sasuke?" she was curious, especially after that.

"One of the powers of my eye," Sasuke began as he lifted his stumped left arm out to the side. "It allows me to transport myself, or swap my position with something else nearby." He turned his head upward, looking through the hole in the second floor to regard the hole through the third floor. "If I can see it, then I can move myself to a position regardless of barriers or obstructions...but since I had no clear line of sight, I decided to swap myself with the bathroom sink; I felt vibrations from inside the building. I knew something was happening within. At any rate, breaking the barrier outright would have caused a lot of noise and commotion, and I'd rather keep this situation subdued."

"Why hide it?" Hinata asked him, watching his missing arm curiously as it seemed to vibrate. Chakra began to run from his shoulder to the rounded flesh that used to be an elbow. When the chakra reached the end, it continued onward to grow into solid, curved rectangular segments. Hinata blinked and observed with wonderment as the process continued, layer upon layer stacking together and being encased with wires and solid metal rods that seemed to stand in as bones. Before long, an entire limb was formed, and Hinata found herself forgetting the first question she asked. "H-how did you...?" She thought back to the battle with Pain, during a time which seemed so long ago—she recalled one of the six bodies that had attacked Konoha, and she remembered a similar sound and sight from one of them. Whirring gears, locking steel. Randomly growing limbs. "Do you have all of _his_ powers...?" She felt uncertain about him again, once more for reasons that weren't Sasuke's fault; she still occasionally had little shoots of pain beneath the skin where she had once been stabbed by one of those black rods.

Sasuke flexed his temporary arm, opening and closing each finger one time to check for sturdiness and operative status. He looked to Hinata afterward and extended his natural hand toward her, inviting her with open fingers. "Whose powers?" He asked idly, but he realized who she meant a moment later. It was the same reason Shell had known the supposed 'limitations' of Shinra Tensei and Bansho Tenin. "You mean Pain?" Sasuke tsked, shaking his head as if to totally dismiss the notion. "No, we're not the same—his techniques were only _borrowed_. This power is _mine_ , and mine alone." He took his fleshy hand down, offering the mechanical one instead. "And _my_ power will never hurt you, Hinata."

She believed him. Whether it was in her best interests or not, she completely trusted the man in front of her. She ignored the murderous intentions, the sadistic tendencies, the cruel coldness of his godlike eyes. He was Sasuke; he was her master. He had been training her for a month and she had gotten _remarkably_ strong in a short time. She knew as well as Sasuke did that if her training hadn't completely worn her out just an hour or so earlier, she would have been able to dispatch Shell with relatively little effort. Her muscles, mind, and chakra had all been weakened—and as she stood there with Sasuke's arm outstretched, looking so inviting, she felt even weaker than that. She reached her hand out to take the odd one, allowing those fingers to close around her skin. She gasped quietly. "I-it's so _cold_..." she whispered, but she didn't draw her hand back.

Sasuke frowned a little bit. He didn't like that she disapproved of his false arm; it had served his purposes quite well, when needed, but... "I'm sorry, Hinata; it's all I've got," he coyly explained with a glint in his eye. He used that hand to pull her slowly closer, then he urged her to put her arm over his shoulder and back. He leaned down and she obliged, securing herself at the top while Sasuke scooped his other, warmer arm beneath her legs and behind her knees. He swept her off the ground and held her in both arms, aloft with her feet dangling off one side over his arm, and with her back firmly supported by his metallic limb; it was almost like the back of a folding metal chair. He carried her gently, looking down at her with total enthrallment. "Are you comfortable?" He asked, conscious of the cool temperature she had disliked.

"I'm...actually _great_ ," Hinata managed to whisper to him through a shudder of absolute nerves. She hadn't expected him to pick her up so intimately—she was all but forced to look up at his face from the cradle he had formed for her. She dared not protest—not only because she was exhausted and didn't mind being carried, but because she really didn't _want_ him to put her down, even if she were able to walk for herself. She settled against his arms; they were as strong as could be. One was so warm, and the other so chilling; the contrast was actually rather intriguing.

Sasuke looked out the door, and he stepped over the unconscious man whom Hinata had earlier struck in the back of the neck. He was still thoroughly knocked out; it would have taken quite a jolt to wake him up, and no such jolts would be coming through the barrier Sasuke had reinforced until he chose to let it happen. Shell, especially, was unconscious and seemed likely to stay that way for quite a while. _Yeah,_ Sasuke thought to himself affirmatively. _They'll keep quiet until I get her home._ While carrying Hinata, Sasuke stepped into the purple haze of the barrier, and it rippled with passage as it recognized its master and allowed him to easily step through its protection. He looked over his shoulder to check the outer appearance once he emerged into the dark night—everything looked fine. The door appeared closed, and the building was standing straight without holes punched in it.

With everything as ordered as it was going to get, Sasuke looked to Hinata in his arms, then he huddled her a little bit closer. He had perhaps come close to losing her, that night—he had honestly believed that she would have survived, regardless of his interference, but the thought that she might _not_ have was enough to urge him to keep her close. One thing was quite clear—he was never going to let her walk home by herself again. Sasuke put the disconcerting thoughts in the back of his head and focused entirely on the present—she was there, and he was going to protect her. No matter what it took.

Hinata felt the heat of her face rising as she was pulled close to Sasuke's torso. She couldn't read his mind, but she could _imagine_ his thoughts. She thought back to the Hokage's office a couple of weeks prior. The serious, firm way he had promised his protection was unsettling at the time, but in the wake of that night, she finally understood what it meant. She mattered to him in a very real way, and she couldn't have been happier to know it. With herself supported by his arms, she laid her head against his chest, and she heard the slow, steady beating of his heart pumping within him. She closed her eyes and focused on that sound; the terror of the day all melted away without a second thought. As Sasuke jumped atop a nearby roof, beginning the journey to her home, she knew that she was safe; Sasuke had her. She wasn't afraid of _anything_ anymore.

Wind rushed by her ears and caused her hair to rise and fall with the cadence of her protector's jumps. She had one arm around his shoulder for support, but the other was resting in her lap. She reached that hand up, clutching Sasuke's shirt gently and rubbing the material between her thumb and forefinger. She looked up at him; he was looking ahead, appearing unmoved by any of it. She could hear his heart begin to beat faster, though—she loved the sound of it; the way she could affect him by such a simple touch. She took a deep breath, gathering courage to whisper up to him. "You don't have to go so fast," she bashfully suggested.

Sasuke looked down at her with a soft smile. His hand was secure against her shoulder, and he gave a slight squeeze there. "I thought you wanted to _hurry_ home," he teased with a quiet voice, knowing that she was quite comfortable. Even through the rushing winds of travel, they could hear one another's small voices clearly. That was because of the closeness of their thoughts.

Hinata had a habit of blushing, but she didn't _want_ to look so timid. Her face was bruised along the jaw and chin, and her hair was a complete mess with stray flecks of dust and dozens of frayed strands. Still, though, the way Sasuke had looked down at her made her feel as if none of it mattered—as if he were peering straight through her face and into her very soul. The sensation made her quiver with untold anxiety—fear that then became wanting. She took a deep breath and answered his tease with a sincere confession: "I just...don't want you to let go," she uttered, turning her head into his chest to break eye contact. She pursed her lips, accidentally taking a little taste of the cloth upon Sasuke's torso. Even the dusty cotton had its own unique appeal; her senses were completely scrambled by the way she felt in his impossibly soothing presence.

"I'm not going to drop you," Sasuke answered in a smooth, promising way. They were high above the ground at the moment; he preferred making tall leaps, and he was at the very top of one. The tranquility of the sky was a wonderful thing to visit, from time to time.

Hinata shook her head, clamping the cloth between her teeth as if she could nibble her timidness away. She peered up at him with large, pitiful eyes, his shirt stretching slightly toward her mouth as it was plucked between two skittish canines. "N-no," she said, blushing further and further. She reached her hand up from his chest, then carefully allowed her palm and fingertips to glide up along his collar and his neck, circling around his opposite shoulder and lightly hoisting herself up in his grip. She brought her face somewhat close to his, though she was still low and comfortable in his grasp. "I don't want you to _let go_...not yet," she clarified, slightly wiggling in his grip. Then, once again, she broke eye contact from some mix of shame and giddiness—but she didn't take her arm down.

Sasuke felt his own formidable face giving in to whatever _completely_ _unrelated_ condition seemed to be coloring Hinata's cheeks. He tried to ignore it; to think of something else. It wasn't working. He heard the sweet words and felt the soft, needy tug of Hinata's arms as she pulled herself nearer to him. He was her cradle. He was what kept the monsters away. And, like it or not, he didn't want to let go of her either. He was already rather close to the Hyuuga's compound, so he took a rather selfish detour after a quick landing, hoping not to upset his passenger. She felt the movement; the shift in direction. She made no protest. In fact, she dug her face a little deeper to hide herself, preventing the dead giveaway that she approved. She seemed likely to vanish if she buried herself any further, but she had no intention of going anyplace. She wanted to be _exactly_ where she was; the surroundings didn't even matter one bit—only the man.

Sasuke made another massive jump, leaving behind a trail of swirling wind as he cut through the humid village air. He looked down, beneath Hinata and beneath his feet. The village was prosperous indeed, when viewed from above. He could see no dilapidated slums from such a height, only the bright lights of the wealthy districts that never seemed to turn themselves off. But he didn't care about the _village_ anymore. He only had one thing, one very special _person_ he needed to look after. He decided that so long as Hinata Hyuuga was alive and well, his life would retain its light. When did it happen, exactly? He had no idea. He couldn't pinpoint the precise moment during which Hinata became the most important brightness that he could ever picture—she had somehow wormed into his consciousness, taken over his thoughts, made him do and say things that he had never imagined himself doing. He had no regrets about it, either.

He took her high above the village, vaulting over the rear mountainside that housed the Hokage Monument to land upon the cliff at its top. He held Hinata tight, then looked over his shoulder. The burgeoning skyscrapers grew a little bit each day, gradually searching for the clouds—he wondered if they would reach them someday. After all, they had a head start for beginning their ascent atop a sheer plateau. The workers were gone for the night; not much construction could be done when the sun wasn't there to light the night—a head lamp simply wouldn't do. Though, Sasuke wondered if one would even _need_ the sun on a night like that one. Overhead, a full moon shone down upon the Land of Fire, illuminating the surrounding forestland with a silver blanket that reached as far as the eye could see. He wondered, for a moment, if even _his_ eyes could possibly see as far as Hinata's could. He looked down at her, still buried in his chest, then he made one more leap, settling himself atop the small plateau that was behind the face of the First Hokage. He settled down, there, taking a quick survey of the terrain. It was flat, mostly, and probably on the schedule to be removed in order to make more room for the encroaching buildings.

"Let me know when you want to go home, Hinata. I'll take you there, and drop you off as close as you like," Sasuke told her as he moved to dangle his leg over the side of the drop off that surrounded the top of the leveled-off hill. He sat upon the edge, with Hinata in his grasp, and the way he positioned himself placed the young woman in his lap, surrounded by the warmth and strength of him.

Hinata marveled at him, unable to speak while she felt herself completely wrapped up in his embrace. Sasuke was looking out toward the moon, so rather than look like a doe-eyed ditz, she joined with him and turned her head to face the cratered, white sphere in the sky. She tried to say whatever came to mind, searching for anything she could bring up to break the silence—and to change the subject from going home. She had found that she was in no hurry, _whatsoever_ , to call it a night, despite her exhaustion and fairly minor wounds. "There was a full moon that night, too," she recalled, finding something that she and Sasuke could share in. "The night you came back to the village," she clarified. _And the night of Naruto's wedding._ Try as she might, as long as she was in Sasuke's arms, she couldn't feel the sting of Naruto's rejection. It was barely a fleeting thought, as if the wedding had simply been an annoying backdrop to facilitate a rather beautiful connection. She felt that connection _strongly_ beneath the full moon that night, a mere month later.

"So it was," Sasuke recalled. "When I saw you there, crying in the light...I thought I was pulled there by coincidence. I could have left the party in _any_ direction, but..." He really _had_ thought that it could have been coincidental...at first. Days later, he started to realize that things had progressed beyond the point of coincidence. He had been dreaming of her from that night on, imagining things he could do to make her smile—and then doing them whenever he saw a chance. Hinata, herself, was turning into an _addiction_ , and although he had been trying to steer away from that inescapable gravity, he was inevitably brought back toward her over and over again until there they sat together, high above the village and bathed by the same moonlight that brought them together. He was beginning to believe quite confidently in the good intentions of the hand of fate. "I found you...and _only_ you...against all odds, when I needed you the most..."

Hinata, too, was contemplating the nature of fate and coincidence. She was content just to listen to his heart, to his even breaths, but then he had begun talking, and the implications got her blood pumping. She thought about pushing her way out of his arms, of fleeing the situation in order to gather her thoughts, but it was too late. She couldn't escape him—she had disobeyed her own rules and allowed herself to get close to him, to let herself _really_ get absorbed. There was no turning back, anymore. And there were no interruptions to be had. She focused on a very particular set of words: "You... _needed_ me?" She asked, feeling cautiously optimistic. She had been wondering about his feelings—at times, he seemed to truly appreciate her, but on occasion he would be so painfully distant that she wondered if she had just been a simple distraction, such as her misguided idea that he was training her as a way of filling hours until the tournament. "If you needed me, then that must be why I was there...because I needed you, too..." She didn't stop to think about logic, or the 'right move' with regards to Kiba, her sister, her father, Naruto, Sakura, or _anything_ else. It was only herself and her savior. Student and master. Man and woman.

Sasuke nodded, gently taking his hands out from beneath her knees and thighs, letting her legs sit across his lap unobstructed and giving her a chance to stretch out a little, which she took graciously. Her sore muscles needed a bit of oxygen, and she pulled her feet straight up and back with her leg muscles alone, effectively stretching her calves and ankles together. She sighed with a soft hum of satisfaction. The huff sounded almost _suggestive_ in the situation, which made her instantly regret the noise—but the stretching _had_ felt good. Instead of trying to ignore the comfort, the satisfaction, and the growing impulses in her head, she embraced all of it. She grew brave as her arms were still secured on Sasuke's shoulders. Hesitantly, she used the grip against his shoulders to bring herself a little closer to his face. She looked up into his eyes, hoping that she looked inviting. There was something she wanted—had _been_ wanting.

Sasuke used his free hand—his warm, human hand—to cup the side of Hinata's cheek, brushing his fingers through her flowing, messed-up hair, smiling down at her in silence. He had nothing else he needed to say, and neither did she. They looked at one another for a long minute, then two. Eventually, a familiar tug took over and they found themselves drawn closer. Sasuke's hand reached back, passing her cheek and reaching around, settling on the nook behind and beneath her ear. His hand cupped the back of her neck, fingers coming to the base of her skull to support her tired head. Likewise, Hinata's arms found themselves trailing over Sasuke's shoulders, moving easily over the cloth of his shirt to trace his masculine contours. His muscle and bone felt so rigid, yet flexible—he could seemingly do _anything_ with his body, which astounded her on such a level as to make her envious. But there was nothing to envy. After all...he needed her as much as she needed him. And he had finally told her so.

The journey of Hinata's hands came to an end at the back of Sasuke's neck, where her fingers locked together and she pulled against his stable posture. Weak or not, hurt or not, she wasn't making any excuses. She wanted to finish what had been started weeks ago; she had to know what it was going to mean. She tilted her head, closed her eyes, and leaned up. Sasuke leaned down, meeting her halfway. As the moon shone down on the isolated couple, their faces came together with gradual certainty—this time, nothing stopped them. Nothing _could_ have stopped them. Hanabi, Choji, and the married couple of Naruto and Sakura themselves could have all arrived together and said _'Stop it!'_ and no difference would have been made.

With one last preparatory breath shared between two almost-touching noses, Sasuke and Hinata pushed their lips together with feathery lightness. It was the slightest contact, almost ticklish in nature, but it was fulfilling on a level that neither of them had ever truly known. They tasted one another in the air, upon their own lips; their breaths came out unevenly through their noses until suddenly there was total silence. They had both stopped breathing at once as their hands drew one another ever closer, changing the kiss that was like air into a fully realized connection. It didn't matter that they were both dirty, or that Hinata's entire body was aching; it didn't matter that Sasuke's shirt had little splashes of another man's blood upon it. No. None of it mattered, and none of it may have ever mattered again.

Their first kiss was an imperfect one, to be sure, but their budding relationship could hardly be called perfect, either. It was fitting, in a sense, that such a horrible event should be what finally forced them to realize the powerful, mutual attraction that could never be fully denied. It was a simple, surface-level kiss that consisted only of puckered lips and mashed faces, their noses playing against one another as they shifted around somewhat awkwardly. For all their experiences as shinobi, they were not learned lovers. The moment was nonetheless a beautiful one that resonated to each of them in precisely the same way. Within the breathless, unbreaking kiss, they both had the exact same thought at the same time: _I'm glad that I attended the wedding. I'm glad that we found one another there._

The kiss eventually ended, as all good things must, and it happened with a rush of breath. They had both broken apart as they came to notice that air was running low; they had honestly _forgotten_ to breathe, and their lungs gave a burn to remind it—Hinata's more than Sasuke's, surely, but only by a little. There was so much _more_ than mere oxygen deprivation at play, there. As the moment of the kiss passed, they looked at one another with guilty consciences, as if expecting themselves to instantly regret their mutual decision. That regret never came. The twitchy, uncertain eyes that had each been studying one another for any sign of disapproval did not find any such thing upon the opposite partner's face. They were thinking and moving in unison, and in unison they wordlessly decided that it was time to go again.

This time, there was a real passion—the clumsy, inexperienced crunch of faces was hardly any better the second time, but they were already learning the nooks, crannies, and contours of each others' face. It was an entirely new sensation, learning something so intimately about another person—despite their age, and their multitude of potential suitors, neither of them had ever committed to such a lengthy gesture of affection. Sasuke's hand gripped the back of Hinata's neck a little more firmly, tugging her deeper against his mouth. He cautiously let the very tip of his tongue slip against Hinata's lips, and he felt the way she shivered in his lap to respond to the unexpected sensation. She gasped through her nose a little, and her eyes opened just slightly, but she was soon calmed. Again, everything was fine. Though, as much as they seemed to mutually want that moment to endure for a full eternity, the second kiss ended with the same inevitability of the first. Gasping for air, minds alight with thoughts and questions.

Hinata had been numb during the dual kisses, but as the high drifted out of her veins and realization of reality set in once more, her body began to thrum beneath her skin—her muscles were begging her for real rest; _sleep_. She could have slept right there in Sasuke's arms, but for _one_ little concern—Hanabi was probably waiting for her. In fact, knowing the little snoop, she had probably seen the entire thing that had just transpired. Although it hurt her to even _think_ it, and every fiber of her being wanted to shut her mouth and take a third kiss from her cherished protector, she took a deep, distancing breath. Her hands came down from Sasuke's neck, planting upon his shoulders and gently holding him at bay. He seemed to notice her shift in attitude right away, but he took no offense. He stared at her with anticipation—he wanted to know her first thoughts.

"I..." Hinata began, then she shuddered, running her tongue subconsciously along her mouth as if to soak up the lingering taste of the man's lips from her own. With her eyes closed, she spoke her mind. "I'm glad that you saved my life, Sasuke..." She said, bringing a hand from his shoulder to his cheek, cupping his face and running her fingers along his strong jaw. "And I'm glad we ended up here... _exactly_ here...in this exact way..." She leaned inward, turning her body from its angled seat to ensure that she pressed her torso gently against Sasuke's, as if rewarding herself with the feeling of his firmness and rewarding _him_ with the press of her soft chest. She touched her nose to his shoulder, then dipped her forehead in as well, nuzzling him with unquestionable affection beside his neck. "I'd love to stay here with you all night and watch the stars," she whispered tentatively, confessing a very true statement. "But I do need to get home soon...or else I'll _never_ want to go." The window was closing fast; as she looked at him, her desire to leave that place was shrinking. _Hurry_ , she pleaded with him silently, within her own mind. _Take me there, or I'll be lost in your warmth forever._

Sasuke was silent for a long time, listening to what Hinata said. He was dizzy with the lingering effects; the kiss had spoken to him without words, given him total clarity where his mind had once been so conflicted. He had at one time been _slowly_ convinced, over the course of many training sessions and the occasional dinner date, that Hinata was special. Likewise, he had come to gain a new perspective on his feelings for Sakura— _maybe_ he didn't love her like he had always thought. _Maybe_ he was giving her more of his heart than she had properly earned. Those ifs and buts were quickly replaced by absolute certainty: Hinata wasn't just special; she was one-of-a-kind. She was the girl he had always been looking for. The details hardly seemed important, in the moment—it was the way she made him _feel_. No matter where he looked, no matter how he protested inside of himself, he could never get away from those _feelings_. Even when she wasn't around, she was in his thoughts—when she was on his mind, the scent of imagined violets filled his nostrils, and he saw flowers where they could never have grown. It wasn't a question, anymore. There had been no mistake. Sakura had been meant to marry Naruto from the moment she was born—it _had_ to be so. How else could Sasuke and Hinata have come together? There would have been no other occasion, no other happenstance. They were destined to find each other on that fateful night; destined to continue onward, helping one another out of the pits they had each fallen into.

Sasuke had reached the mouth of the pit, and he raised his hand to pull himself out. At the top, he saw Hinata's hand, and he took it without hesitation. She smiled at him. The fantasy, the metaphor, it all melted away, though—she was there, in the flesh, telling him that she would have loved to spend the whole night under the stars with him. And he knew that he would have liked that, too. Unfortunately, like her, he also had _things_ to deal with. He collected himself with a nod and a thick swallow of all the saliva that had built up in his mouth during his musings. When his lips parted, he whispered a lover's whisper, with such softness as to hardly be heard at all, but by the one whom was meant to receive it. "I'll take you home, Hinata." He took another moment to let the ecstatic waves of comfort wash out of his system, lest he be overcome by the lingering rush of pleasure that Hinata's kiss had given him. He repeated himself as he slowly, carefully pulled one of his feet up and over the edge of the cliff, finding solid purchase and using it to stand up with the delicate girl firmly held.

"O _h, and_ ," Hinata started somewhat quickly, as if to head him off: "I don't want you to try to hide yourself from my family...If they see you, then I want them to come face to face with the man who saved my life...the person whose name is Sasuke Uchiha..." She nestled the side of her head against his chest as she was gently repositioned in both of his arms and scooped out of his lap. He stood while carrying her, and the familiar hiss of wind passed her ears; he was already on the move through the sky. Once more, she focused on the sound of Sasuke's heartbeat. She didn't want to worry about the _consequences_ any longer—she didn't care if Ko disapproved, or if her father scolded her. No matter what happened with her family, she knew at least _one_ thing for certain based on the honesty of the feelings she had experienced that night. Maybe the sensations, the pure _joy_ of it all, had made her blind to the long-term consequences, but she had been given a powerful sense of hope. Sasuke made her feel undeniably _wanted_. The kisses, as woefully brief as they were, had contained an unspoken promise, too powerful and absolute for mere words to declare.

Hinata knew that from that day forth, regardless of what happened in any other place, with any other person, she would _always_ be able to find a safe haven within Sasuke Uchiha's protective embrace.

* * *

 **Well there you have it! Hope you liked this chapter. Also, big thanks for bringing this story to the 500+ review milestone! I know that a lot of you are always on the lookout for updates to the story, and I'm the same way-I _love_ posting updates, because it gives me a brand new wave of feedback from all of you awesome people out there who enjoy the story (or don't) and let me know what you think! I've read every single review (though I've deleted a few guests that were being obscene) and I always take the commentary to heart. So, if you want to tell me something you thought, felt, or hoped while reading this chapter, I'd really appreciate it. Either way, see you again soon.**


	28. Unwelcome

**Enjoy!**

* * *

The feel of the night had changed drastically since only an hour previous. Hinata should have been scared, or at least _cautious_ about the village, but Sasuke made it impossible for her to think of anything negative. She had seen the demon within him, that night, but she had seen the angel as well. He was the man who trained her, the man who dug her out of her depression, the man who saved her life in more ways than she could fathom. After the infamous wedding, Hinata had been ready to give up, ready to destroy herself with meaningless sorrow, yet _he_ didn't allow it. Out of nowhere, Sasuke Uchiha swooped into her life with a resounding crash and reminded her of the feelings she had been ignoring for several months. Just like Sasuke, the Hyuuga girl didn't know the exact moment when it had occurred. There was a changing point in her heart, but she couldn't decide on a single instance. She only knew that it had happened long before the warm, exhausting night that she was now being so delicately whisked away from. She was in his arms, soaring above all her cares and worries, free to look upon his stoic face with wide-eyed wonder.

How did he do it? How did he so casually save her life, kiss her upon the lips with amazing tenderness, then return to his determined and unreadable visage? She knew _he_ had been changed, too, by the nearly magical touch of lips. She felt it in the way he held her. His arm around her shoulder, cold and robotic, was more tightly wrapped against her weight, keeping her closer than before. She felt her entire right side being clamped against his chest and stomach, and she found no soft spots upon his physique as she tenderly ran her palm along his shirt, soothing herself with the assurance that he would never drop her; never betray her. Though, upon using that word, she wondered again: had Naruto _really_ betrayed her? She had been thinking so, in a selfish kind of way, up until recently. What _was_ betrayal, anyhow? A rather _intentional_ bit of treachery, that's what it was. Shell was a traitor—he had gone against the ideals of Konoha, turned his back upon the Hokage, and shed the blood of a fellow citizen. Naruto was not a traitor. Hinata decided that he was simply inexperienced in matters of love, and allowed that conclusion to be the balm that soothed the sting of her rather insensitive rejection.

She clutched Sasuke's shirt and turned her head, burying her face into him once more and becoming lost in the warmth of his chest. Whooshing, slashing air kept throwing her hair up and down, following the cadence of Sasuke's jumps with a dependable rhythm. The night was hypnotizing as she thought about what had happened, but more importantly she thought about what was to come _next_. She had told Sasuke not to worry about hiding himself from her family, and she meant it with all of her heart, but there would surely be tension as a result. Was it fair of her to ask him to make such a move? Actually, she realized, _she_ was the one who had been afraid; the one with something to lose. But she wasn't, anymore. She thought of the worst that could happen, and realized that there was nothing worth fearing.

She felt herself ache from head to toe, but only in gradual waves. The one thing Sasuke seemingly _hadn't_ mastered was medical ninjutsu, yet the way he touched her made her feel as if he was making her pain go away based on comfort alone. Her nose brushed against his shoulder as she snuck a hand up to clutch him along the upper arm. Her rear was hanging relatively free; if she slipped, she could have fallen far enough to break several bones, perhaps worse, but she had never felt more secure in her entire life. Not even Naruto had ever been quite so assuring, because there was one difference, one crucial, self-serving detail that she appreciated without remorse: Sasuke Uchiha had come for _her_. He carried _her_. And it was _only_ her. Whereas Naruto had made her feel loved in many ways, he had done the same for _all_ of his friends. Sasuke, on the other hand, seemed to have developed a very _specific_ sense of protection for only one person, and she was _so_ very happy to be that person.

She wanted the night to endure for an eternity, but she looked over her shoulder, dizzied by the height. She looked down upon the village as she fell to it like a raging meteorite, but upon the impact she felt no sudden jolt. Sasuke's landings were absurdly smooth. If she had closed her eyes, she would only have felt the wind to know whether she was rising or falling. The ride was surreal. He took away the outside world and left only the two of them, and in that moment she didn't want it any other way. However, the Hyuuga District was down there, and rapidly growing closer. Sasuke's feet hit the paved road just in front of the gate without pause. He didn't even hesitate, opting to take her directly to the mouth of the proverbial lion's den. She felt the stillness, and she heard voices of surprise mumbling from the building closest to the main entry.

"We're here," Sasuke whispered gently, tilting his head down to look at Hinata. Nothing else but her seemed _real_ , anymore. Hinata heard his voice, and she reached a hand up to cover his cheek with a trembling, grimy palm. She left a little streak of dirt behind when she caressed his face and silently wished for another kiss. She realized she hadn't said much since her mouth found such rapture with his, but perhaps there was nothing more she _had_ to say to him. He seemed to understand as he gazed upon her tired, blissful face with the softest, most imperceptible of smiles. He was genuinely at ease, and Hinata knew that it was because she was safe in his care. Would he worry about her when she was out of sight, tucked away with her family? On the one hand, she didn't want him to worry. On the other hand, she loved to imagine that he thought about her all day and night. She shivered in his grasp beneath his cool, cherishing attention.

"Y-yes," Hinata managed to gasp. "Thank you for taking me home." She burned for another kiss, and she had even started to lean up from his grasp, but she heard the worried beat of several footsteps. She closed her eyes and pursed her lips, pulling her face back down with mighty restraint. "Thank you, Sasuke...for everything you've done, everything you _will_ do, and everything you _are_..." Instead of a kiss, she threw her arms around both of his shoulders and tucked her face against his neck one more time, feeling the smoothness of his nigh-impenetrable skin. He felt like silk against her nose and mouth, despite his overwhelming power. How could such a prickly, brutal creature of legend be so physically tempting and emotionally soothing? She didn't care about the logistics, anymore. She only knew that she _hated_ to be lowered from his hold, yet that's what happened. It _had_ to happen.

"Lady Hinata!" Ko's voice was the first to cut into her bliss, worried and frantic as his hands clobbered the gate with urgency, shoving the whole thing open wide and pouring himself out into the street, arm outstretched as if he thought he was saving her from something. "Are you hurt?" He noticed Sasuke, but he hadn't really _noticed_ that he had noticed him. "You're late coming home...the family has been getting worried!" He felt a sudden pulse of fear in his spine, and he stopped his approach with a pitiful tremble. Sasuke Uchiha had turned to place those horrible eyes upon Ko's face, as if analyzing the one who thought to take his Hinata from him with cold, calculating efficiency. Ko felt the weight of judgement pinning him into stunned silence, and he gulped as sweat formed along his forehead. "S-Sasuke..." he managed to utter with reluctant respect, clenching his fists and teeth.

Hinata felt her feet hit the stable concrete road beneath her, and she stumbled at first but quickly regained composure to aim herself at Ko with her arms raised reassuringly. "I'm okay, Ko...I swear I am," she began. Despite her shakiness, her voice was confident enough to sound true. Was she _really_ okay, though? That was a question to ask after a good night's sleep, which she intended to get as soon as she made it past that gate. Ko wasn't alone, as Hinata realized. Several members of the clan had come together to greet her, Hanabi being one of them. With cautious optimism, Hinata looked for her father. Was _he_ worried about her?

She did not see him. _No, he wasn't worried_. Her heart sank, but at least she knew that she had been missed by others. What should have been a cavalcade of relieved greetings was actually an uneasy silence. Regardless of Hinata's condition and triumphant return, she realized that she was no longer the center of attention. Her savior, her protector, her _monster_ , was the one who received the consideration of numerous clan members. Ko was the only one brave enough to speak, leading the pack. Hanabi, though, didn't seem frightened—only analytical. Attentive. Scheming.

"Come here, Hinata..." Ko said, whispering as if he were trying to avoid waking a hungry bear. His hand went toward the beat-up young woman, but his milky eyes stayed uncertainly glued to the man who seemed to tower behind her. "I'll bring you inside..."

Sasuke said nothing. He stood there with his arms hanging down and his mouth flattened into neutrality. He did send a single look in the direction of every nervous member of Hinata's clan, but when he made eye contact, they often turned their heads. He only recognized two of them, in truth; he knew that the frightened leader of the pack was Ko, Hinata's bodyguard, and of course he recognized the girl's sister, Hanabi, woven in with the crowd, tucked between two larger bodies in night robes. With a quiet huff, Sasuke turned as if ready to walk away wordlessly.

"Don't _look_ at him like that," Hinata murmured, pleading with Ko as she firmly took his hand. She frowned harshly and turned up to stare into her bodyguard's shocked expression. "He's not an _animal_ ," she continued, gulping down her courage before turning her head away, looking to the ground. She felt herself blushing, not knowing where that sudden burst of protectiveness had come from. As if Sasuke _needed_ her protection; she had tricked herself into thinking that he _cared_ about how he was seen by others. "H-he...he's _not_..."

Ko tucked his hand behind Hinata's back and pulled her into a gentle embrace, cradling her in both arms and rocking himself slowly from side to side. "Shh, it's alright, Hinata...I've got you, now..." He tried to give Sasuke a steely stare, but it came across as a fish trying to defy the hawk that was swooping down to pluck it from the river. He knew he was little more than fodder, but he had seen Hinata's wounds, her difficulty walking and breathing. He _knew_ that Sasuke had done it, but he couldn't figure out why Hinata was defending him. "Everything is okay, you're home...we'll take care of you." He began to step backward, tugging Hinata into 'safety.' She followed with aimless, obedient steps.

Sasuke had stopped long enough to listen to Hinata's burst of defense for him, but when she was being pulled away, she had fallen quiet. He heard a breath come sharply into her throat. She was beginning to cry, and he could tell that on some level, the tears were being shed for _him_. He was no stranger to the stares, to the fearful hatred. They were all scared, yet they all felt hatred as well—and they hated him _because_ they were frightened. There was an indecision in their hearts—did they wear fear or hatred, primarily? Ko was one of those who settled on hatred, though it was as mild as such an intense emotion could be. Other concerned members of the Hyuuga Clan circled around Hinata, and Sasuke lost sight of her in the crowd as the gate closed. He heard sobbing mixed with whispered reassurances. All the while, he felt the 'subtle' glances the others were giving him through the gaps in the bars. He was the pariah; the outcast. On the surface, he didn't seem to care, but on some deep, universally _human_ level, he felt the pain of rejection. He wanted to be in there, too, comforting Hinata, but that was no longer his role. He had passed her along; he was merely the rescuer, not the comforter. Hinata had a family to turn to; countless friends. Sasuke had only himself, at that point, and the loneliness had begun to sink in at the very moment that his chest lost the warmth of Hinata's head. Her scent was still on his clothes—a bit sweaty, but very much _hers_. As he took a deep breath to quiet his pangs of loneliness, he closed his eyes and walked away.

He wasn't welcome there.

* * *

Hinata was crowded by her family, hands being laid upon her shoulders as if they were assuring themselves that she was safe. She was flattered, at least at first, but as she realized that the gate had closed and Sasuke had gone, she had begun to feel guilt of the highest sort. She whispered to the crowd, her eyes closed and her body pounding her bones with pain. "Where's Sasuke...?" she asked in her quiet sobs; she wanted him there, too, though she knew it was unrealistic. Standing up was brutal; standing _still_ was torture. She wanted every step she took to take her a little bit closer to a shower; a bed. She started to walk, guiding herself along with Ko's protection. She heard questions all around, concerned ones, ignorant ones: _Are you okay? What happened out there? Who did this to you? Why are you crying? You're safe now. What did Sasuke do to you?_ She was almost amused; they suspected that Sasuke had done something to her, yet none of them had dared step past her to confront him on their own. They knew there was nothing they could do—if Sasuke wanted something, he was going to have his way until Naruto came to 'save the day'.

But Hinata knew that Naruto would _never_ buy the story that Sasuke had been the one to hurt her. She wanted to set the record straight then and there, but whenever she tried to open her mouth for more than a few words, she felt the wooziness of exhaustion creep into her thoughts. She was unstable on her feet, which made her grateful for Ko's support, however backhanded it had been with regards to Sasuke. She was with her family as she was taken up a short row of wooden stairs and onto a deck that framed her home. She tried to turn her Byakugan on, wanting to see where Sasuke had gone—was he still watching her? She liked to think so. But she had no chakra; she was entirely empty, save for the slight amount she needed to _live_. Despite being home, surrounded by people she had known her entire life, she felt a very pervasive emptiness. _Where was Sasuke?_ Why wasn't he holding her in his arms? She knew the answer, but her heart was panicking. What if she never felt that hot/cold embrace again? What if her lips never got to kiss him a third time? She shuddered with remorse. She never should have come home.

Yet, she knew she _had_ to come home. Her family was worried. She was missed. If she had been out any longer, they would have come looking for her. It was best to end the spontaneous intimacy beneath the moonlight while her faculties were still intact. Oh, if he had continued kissing her, she didn't know what her body might have made her do. She thought to that fleeting sensation, the one that seemed so gorgeous as to be a part of a dreamscape. She still tasted him, slightly, upon her lips. Her tongue moved to brush the corners of her mouth, lapping up the tiny hints of Sasuke, reminding herself of him in a very real way. It calmed her nerves, made it easier to walk.

Suddenly, Hinata realized that she was inside her house and hadn't noticed the roof coming over her head. Most of her concerned well-wishers had dispersed to return to bed, having been satisfied that the missing member of the 'royal family' was safely returned. She wasn't the heiress any longer, but she was still cherished. Hinata looked around in a daze; Ko was still escorting her, but suddenly it was only herself and him. She looked up to his face as if she were only half-conscious, her mouth sagging open and her eyelids threatening to drop off her brows. "Ko...I can make it from here," she said with a swollen throat. That's right. She had been crying; her tears were staining her cheeks until Ko took the edge of a flapping sleeve and delicately wiped the wetness away.

"Okay, Lady Hinata," he answered, cleaning her face as best he could. His white garment had a dingy gray-brown streak upon it, the result of Hinata's debris-caked face rubbing off on him. It would have been even worse, Hinata knew, if she hadn't already nuzzled most of her dirt onto Sasuke's chest. She blushed with innocent guilt; she must have gotten him so _dirty_. While she made a resolution to shower thoroughly before she passed out, Ko spoke to her: "I told you that you shouldn't get involved with Sasuke, didn't I...?"

Hinata had been imagining hot water blasting against her bare skin, flowing through her matted hair and cleansing her beautifully, but then Ko had to go and rip her out of her fantasy. She tightened her jaw and she looked at him with quivering cheeks and eyebrows. She wanted to cry again, but she held it in. " _Sasuke_ didn't do this to me, Ko...He _saved_ me from the beast who _did_..."

Ko tilted his head, taken aback by the revelation. "Beast...? What sort of beast?" His only reaction was confusion. "You're in Konoha, Hinata...we don't _have_ those beasts here. Aside from _him_ , that is..." Ko knew he was being harsh; he could tell that Hinata had some kind of misguided affection for Sasuke Uchiha—but sometimes the truth had to be spoken. "Did he place you under some kind of genjutsu? How badly did he hurt you?" Ko's concerned fingers came up to pull Hinata's right eyelids apart, looking deep into her eye as if he would be able to see some mark of the Sharingan upon her sclera.

Hinata whined weakly and brought her hand up to pull Ko's touch away from her face. "I _said_ Sasuke didn't do it...it was a member of the _Hokage's_ _personal guard_!" She shouted abruptly, filling the hallway with the accusation, then realizing that she had dropped the ball. She took a hasty step back, reaching her hand behind her back and finding the knob that opened her room's door. She stuttered over her words, trying to backtrack. "I-I mean, it was a man in a _mask_...I just...he _looked_ like a guard...I don't know _who_ he was..." She fumbled for the knob, never taking her eyes off of Ko. She knew that Sasuke wanted to keep the circumstances of her assault hidden. Causing a panic and mass hysteria would do no good for anybody; she trusted Sasuke to deal with the problem, one way or another. If he wanted to keep a secret, she should have respected that. But she couldn't stand idly by while Ko blamed her master for being the one to hurt her, because he would _never_ hurt her. She could feel that immutable truth while he carried her home. Those arms were purposeful; absolute. Even through the false limb created by the immense power of his right eye, Hinata could feel Sasuke's resolve to keep her safe.

There was silence for a while. "You...said that one of the _Hokage's guards_...did _this_ to you?" Ko was processing the information as well as he could, but it was tough to swallow. True, she was able to stand on her own, and from the looks of it her bones were largely intact, but her bruised face, torn clothes, and generally worn demeanor spoke of a mighty struggle. It was not a minor scuffle, by any means. "So...what happened to Hanabi recently..." He was starting to connect the dots.

Hinata realized she couldn't keep a secret from Ko, even if she wanted to. He was too close to her; she trusted him too much. Just like she trusted Hanabi...and like she had _initially_ trusted Shell. Sasuke was right. Her trust was going to get her into trouble, just as it already had. She was starting to feel confused. Reluctant. She wondered if she _should_ trust people, anymore. "What happened to my sister wasn't an accident," Hinata said raggedly. "But please, Ko, you mustn't tell the others...Sasuke doesn't want them to know..." she looked up and down the hall, checking for curious gawkers who might have heard her short outburst. The pair remained alone, thankfully.

Ko furrowed his brows. "I don't think _Sasuke_ is the one who should make this decision..." He brought both hands up to Hinata's face, clutching her cheeks and looking into her eyes. "Somebody hurt you, Hinata. I'm taking this matter directly to the Hokage tomorrow so that it can be resolved."

Hinata shook her head somewhat frantically, fighting the admittedly-comforting grip of his hands around her face. "N-no, you _can't_...that'll only make you a _target_ , Ko," She reached a hand up to cover one that was on her cheek, brushing the back of his skin with an attempt to calm him. "I don't really know what's happening, or who's involved...just please, _please_ promise me that you'll leave it to Sasuke...I trust him. He can handle this."

"Is that _all_ it is, Hinata?" Ko asked thoughtfully. "Trust?" He had seen the way she looked at the Uchiha; acknowledged the way she hesitated to get down from his carriage. Ko had known Hinata since she was a child. He recognized the look on her face when she was smitten. That said, he also trusted her judgement, whether he _should_ have done so or not. He relented to her pleading, then brought his hands down from the girl's face to instead frame his own. "Never mind, Lady Hinata...I'll keep it to myself for your sake, but you need to promise me something." He held up one finger in front of his face.

Hinata had a feeling she knew what was coming, so she didn't make any preemptive commitment to agree or not. "What is it?"

Ko answered her with grim certainty. "You have to help me find a book I've lost..." He suddenly melted into his usual self; a little bit bumbling, a little bit clueless. Hinata breathed a relieved sigh as he grinned sheepishly down at her with a creeping blush. "See, it's...it's kind of a _grown-up_ story, and I don't know if your Lord Father would appreciate finding such a thing lying around...I can't remember where I put it, and I thought maybe you could help me out. Tomorrow, of course; you need your rest."

Hinata smiled wide, her eyes glistening with the beginnings of thankful tears. She had expected to hear _'don't go near Sasuke,'_ or _'don't leave the house,'_ or any number of restrictive things that she would have been forced to defy. Yet, she realized that Ko was her oldest friend. She had known him for even longer than she had known Hanabi, even if only by a year or two due to Hanabi's young age. Despite his protectiveness, despite his hesitation, he was not going to stifle her hopes and dreams like Hiashi. Ko understood her. He knew what she wanted, and he wasn't going to be the one to deprive her of it. "Of course, Ko!" she gleefully agreed, throwing her arms around his chest and under his arms, pulling him into a hug. Because of her injuries, it hurt her to do it, but not as much as it hurt _him_.

Ko groaned, trying to gasp for air. The hug was tight. _Too_ tight. "Gah...Lady Hinata...your _grip_..." he was patting her shoulder, trying to tap out.

Hinata blushed and pulled back, raising her hands apologetically. "O-oh! I'm so sorry, Ko. I should...I should get to bed..." she crept backward, shuffling her feet and making sure that she didn't stumble over any furniture or stray clothing articles left behind. She shut the door with a furious blush, then projected her voice courteously through the wood: "Goodnight, Ko. Thank you for walking me to my room!"

"You're quite welcome, Lady Hinata. Sleep well; we can talk more tomorrow, if need be." Ko gave a gentle knock on the door, a little farewell before he walked away. As he left, Hinata looked down to her hands, turning on the light with a switch beside her door. She was grungy, in a word. She turned right away to head into her bathroom, shutting the second door behind her and locking it tight. She peered into every corner, every crevice. She slid out all the drawers, opened the cabinet behind the mirror, and even checked the overhead ventilation duct. Although she didn't want to admit it to Ko, or even to Sasuke, the incident with Shell had made her paranoid. She trusted that man because she thought that the Hokage trusted _him_. If not even the door guards could be trusted, then how deep did this conspiracy really run?

Satisfied that no traps (or surveillance devices) were laid in her bathroom, Hinata finally felt comfortable enough to begin stripping away the crusty clothing she had worn all day. As she pulled the shirt over her head, she felt the rough, abrasive dirt lifted off of her smooth stomach. The smothering layer gave way to soothing air, a ticklish freedom. She felt her considerably-large breasts come free of her garment and couldn't resist a soft sigh of delight as she tossed the discarded shirt into her nearby hamper. It felt _so_ very good to be home, safely tucked in her room. And it was going to feel even _better_ to step into the hot stream of water she had been fantasizing about. Before she had even finished undressing, she was already reaching behind the shower curtain with greedy hands, turning the faucet to unleash a massive torrent of searing hot water. She wouldn't be satisfied unless it _scorched_ the dirt clean off of her skin. She bit her lower lip, and suddenly thought of the heat of Sasuke's fireball...and the fiery warmth of his own body. _Where had he gone? What was he thinking about?_

Hinata dropped the rest of her clothes and climbed into the steamy shower. The water hit her flesh and she groaned, the sound echoing to fill the small room. Her muscles ached, but the searing water worked wonders for loosening her up. She rubbed her jaw and cleaned it first, getting the most tender areas out of the way for the sake of a more enjoyable shower. As she closed her eyes and dove into the waterfall to soak her hair, she felt chunks of concrete and floor tile wash away, trickling down her back and onto the soaked platform below her feet. And...wait a second. In the confusion and daze of being escorted into the house by the crowd, Hinata had belatedly noticed a certain absence beyond a particular point. She asked herself a question with idle curiosity as she reached for a bottle of shampoo, squirting it into her hand and lathering it up luxuriously before sliding it through her hair: _Where did Hanabi run off to?_

* * *

Sasuke sat atop a building within the village; a finished one, near its center. Although the skyscrapers were reserved for the overlook, there were still a number of impressively tall structures in the old districts as well. He didn't know or care which particular one he perched upon, only that he was given some peace and quiet. He heard the low hum of electricity running through the apartment complex beneath his feet; not like his own, not in the slums. He wasn't in the mood to deal with random scum, that night. In fact, he was in a contemplative mood. He needed to do something about that ruined home near the casino district, most especially the contents inside. But he couldn't manage to think about that. He could only think of Hinata Hyuuga and the way her departing sobs had wracked him to the core. He wanted so badly to brush her cheek, to make her feel okay, but she wasn't in his hands anymore. He was only a drifter in her life; those people who took her away had known her since she was a baby. She trusted them.

Sasuke finally had a moment to think, a moment to be silent in his own concerns. Though he tried to stick to business, to the cancerous growths that seemed to be popping up among Konoha's loyal shinobi, he couldn't take his mind off of the girl. He had put away his second arm; it wasn't needed, anymore. The metal had rescinded and become one with his chakra network once more. He held up his own hand, his right hand, and clutched his fingers together. If he concentrated, he could still feel Hinata's skin, her cheek. He could smell her aroma on his clothes, but it wasn't enough. He _missed_ her. He wanted to have her there, again. His mouth tingled with a desire to kiss her, to suckle upon her honeyed skin. The fantasies were truly detracting from his ability to think rationally. He crossed his legs, sitting upon the edge of the building and looking down toward a populated, well-lit center of activity. It was past midnight, by then, and people _should_ have been in bed...but it was a wealthy portion of the village. There were no crimes to worry about. Only the poor, the _derelict_ , had anything to fear...but if that were true, then why had both Hanabi and Hinata been targeted? They were the epitome of wealth and class within Konoha. They should have been untouchable.

Sasuke tried to follow that line of thought, but it only forced him to think of Hinata once again. Her grace, her determination. He imagined that she was at his side, with her cheek leaned upon his shoulder. He could practically feel the weight of her head against him, sense the soothing blanket of hair that would have tickled his upper arm as it hung down from there. He felt a pressure in his stomach; the butterflies. Even when she wasn't there, even when he was _completely_ isolated, he still felt nervous when Hinata was on his mind. He had done a terrible thing that night—he had given in to his hatred. And it was because of that girl, that sweet, _genuine_ girl named Hinata. He had thought himself to be long past that old curse, that blood lust...but seeing her in pain, hearing those words, _'he hurt me,'_ drove Sasuke to old ways. Torture. Violence. Sadism. If she hadn't touched his shoulder, he would have burned the entire building to the ground in a torrent of black flames. He would have incinerated his only hope of finding out what was happening in Konoha before it was too late. Provided, of course, that it wasn't _already_ too late.

He had sensed, heard, and even smelled the approach several moments before it became necessary to notice, but he knew who it was and he had nothing to hide. He didn't move, nor did he speak as his visitor mounted the rooftop and took cautious, 'sneaky' barefooted steps toward him. Sasuke was amused; she thought she was going to catch him by surprise. She was like a cat; prowling, stalking, ready to pounce, but to Sasuke she was like an especially _noisy_ cat, like one that wore pots and pans on its padded feet to announce each footfall. When she whispered to him, thinking she was going to startle him, he didn't react in the slightest: "You had better not screw this up, Uchiha!" she rasped near his ear.

Sasuke sighed. He could have vanished, abandoned her to her feistiness, but it would have been the wrong move for his purposes. He had felt undeniable sorrow in his heart when he saw Hinata whisked away, and when he felt total rejection emanating from her clan in his direction. He knew that he didn't belong there...but maybe there was a way to change that. _Maybe_ he could gradually gain supporters within those walls, enough to be 'allowed' to visit as he wished without so much despising reluctance. And it was with that goal in mind that Sasuke turned his head in a slow, non-threatening way to gaze upon the stern face of Hanabi Hyuuga, the younger sister of the woman who had been clouding his thoughts with alarming regularity. "Careful what you say," he said with a semi-playful smirk. "I'm a monster, haven't you heard?"

Hanabi shivered in the night that wasn't cold. She had a whole speech lined up, but it was thrown out the moment that smooth, masculine voice washed her ears in its merciless sound waves. She blushed for no reason other than being _seen_ by Sasuke. She took a step back and straightened up, turning away to _look_ defiant, but in truth it was to hide the way she responded to his attention. "H-hey, don't you go making threats with me...you may be the head of the Uchiha Clan, but I'm the heiress of the Hyuuga Clan. I've got just as much power as you, so don't forget that."

Sasuke smirked, amused. He didn't laugh, though; that might have insulted his surprise guest. "Then by all means, speak your mind, Lady Hanabi Hyuuga." He put an intentional, syrupy thickness in that voice of his—he wanted to watch the way the teen's defiance melted. He could tell that she admired him in the way a kid might admire a fictional superhero, and he saw no harm in playing with that knowledge to catch her off guard.

Hanabi was silent for a moment, rocking back and forth on heels and toes. When she spoke, she didn't regard him. Sasuke imagined the flustered look on her face, matching expressions to words in humorous fashions. "I just...Sasuke, I saw the way you held her. I saw the way she looked at you, okay?" Hanabi turned over her shoulder, and her expression was not nearly as amusing as Sasuke had pictured. It was real, sincere concern that colored her features. "She...she _really_ likes you, and I think you know that."

Sasuke took on a serious expression. He hadn't expected that to be the topic of conversation, but it was a discussion worth having...and in a way, it was good to have it with somebody who wasn't the girl who drove him insane. And someone other than Sakura, or Naruto—people who had, in their own way, caused pain to the person he cared for. Hanabi was cold when it counted, but she wasn't _heartless_. Sasuke could sense the depths of her worry, and he was glad to feel those emotions so plainly from her. "Yes, I _know_ that she likes me," he answered as neutrally as he could, as if it were _that_ simple. _'She likes me.'_ As if that weren't a gross understatement; as if it were anywhere _near_ adequate. There was indeed _some_ emotion there, brewing, that was only similar to 'like' in its first letter.

Hanabi turned on her foot, having squashed her nervousness for the sake of her beloved big sister. "I mean, Sasuke, she likes you _so_ much that it'd _really_ hurt her if you messed it up...you know what I mean?" She didn't know how much Sasuke had considered the same thing. She thought she was presenting a new idea. Again, Sasuke thanked her in silence for the genuine concern. It was uplifting in so many ways to see that so many people truly cared about Hinata. He felt like part of an army of people who wanted to see her smile—and on some level, it made him jealous, but on the truest, most direct level, it made him peaceful.

"No...what _do_ you mean?" Sasuke asked, playing a bit coy.

"Just...you know, don't make her _think_ you care about her, then run off and treat some other girl the same way...She talks about you all the time, when it's just us two...she tells me how you take her into that weird, other world to train, and how it makes her feel close to you...about how you keep giving her looks that make her knees weak." Hanabi held up a finger, trying to seem authoritative. Sasuke was seated, and she was for the moment taller than he was, but he was still without a doubt the dominant force in that conversation, despite the young girl's efforts. "Just be careful, I guess is what I'm trying to say...honestly, I don't even know if you _care_ or not, but...she's been hurt before. Badly."

Sasuke nodded. "I know that. She's been in a lot of pain since the moment I met her..." He didn't mention his own turmoil, his pining for Sakura that had only _just then_ returned to his mind as an afterthought. How could it have been that such a strong sensation, one that had nearly forced him to attempt to burn Naruto alive at his own wedding with Amaterasu, had so quickly dissipated into nothing more than an itch on the bottom of his foot? One more scratch, and it might have gone away entirely. _His_ pain was healing; was Hinata's the same way? He strongly hoped so.

Hanabi answered his question for him, as if accidentally picking up his thoughts and sharing them: "But the pain is going away. And it's because of you, alright?" She sighed, bringing a hand up to brush through her hair. It was darker than Hinata's, closer to black than the exotic deep shade of violet that colored her sister's crown. Still, she had a fairness to her; an attractive set of genetics that hadn't fully bloomed into womanhood yet, but would eventually make her a stunning lady. Sasuke thought very little of that, however—he had seen true beauty, and its name was Hinata. Hanabi spoke through the night air, finishing her point: "If you hurt her, or betray her, or _whatever_ you want to call it, the pain's going to come back and it's gonna be even worse. I know I can't control you, and if you're as heartless as they say, then...well, this was all a waste of time. Just, I'm her sister...I don't want to see her heart get broken again. If she's falling for the wrong guy, just tell _me_ that, and...maybe we can work _together_ to figure out a way to sort of ease her off of you. A way that won't be _completely_ devastating, okay?"

Sasuke moved to stand himself up, laying his hand upon the hilt of his sword out of habit. "I _do_ think she's falling for the wrong guy, Hanabi." Sasuke started, but before the teen thought he was admitting his frivolousness, he gave her a hard, serious stare. "She deserves somebody better, without all the marks on his record. Somebody who isn't going to bring dirty looks her way whenever she's seen with him..." He closed his eyes and gave a little sigh. "But it's too late to worry about that, I think." He gave his real answer: "I'll never hurt her. I'll never betray her...and anybody who _does_ will answer to me personally. That's a promise I'm making to you, given from the head of my clan to the heiress of yours."

Hanabi suddenly felt petty for ever having doubted him. His declaration was hard; unbreakable. She could find no faults in his demeanor. He meant every word he said. She stared slackjawed up at his standing height, then swallowed and took a deep breath, preparing to follow that up. She knew it wasn't going to be as heroic as his declaration, but she felt the need to hop on the bandwagon. "And...I'll be there, too, along the way. My father may have all but disowned her, but the _rest_ of the clan really loves Hinata..." She bit her lower lip, jealously nibbling it as she beheld the being whom her sister had somehow ended up so close to. How did _she_ get all the luck? "I can tell that you..." she trailed off, choosing another word, "... _care_ about her. Most of the others don't see it; all they saw was how hurt she was when you brought her home. What _I_ saw, though, was how she looked at _you_...it was like she wanted to kiss you."

Sasuke blushed without changing his expression. It was slight, barely a dusting along the tops of his cheeks, but it was there whether he liked it or not. "She was just in shock after what happened, that's all," he replied, his tone evenly paced but his choice of words surprisingly clumsy.

Hanabi's eyes narrowed. "Yeah, about that...what _did_ happen?"

Sasuke smirked. "The same thing that happened to you, two weeks back." He saw his chance to fit in a little jab. "Though, unlike back then...they're still alive. Whatever I learn from them, now, I might have been able to have learned a few weeks ago. Maybe it would have been enough to keep Hinata safe...but don't feel guilty. After all, you only did what you thought was necessary." He smirked at her. Since he knew Hinata was safe, he could breathe easily.

Hanabi blushed, then tightened her brow, flexed her mouth and puffed her cheeks with impotent rage. "Hey, don't go blaming me!" She bellowed. "Those bastards _attacked_ me, so I killed them off! Dirt like that gets washed away, not dropped in a jar and saved for later!" She _knew_ he had a point, and that's what pissed her off the most. She crossed her arms and turned her head aside, closing her eyes and putting out a bratty little tone. "Anyway, what're you even doing up here if you've got some kind of investigation to do?"

Sasuke twitched one of his slender eyebrows, breaking his attention away from Hanabi and looking down upon the village streets below. Whispers of conversation bounced from one building to the next, rising up to Sasuke's ears. He heard all the words, but he kept himself willfully ignorant of what they all meant when combined. He was only observing in the loosest sense, taking the temperature of the place. He detected no foul play, so he set his hand against his hip and shrugged. "Just seeing the sights...I was away for a long time; I've missed a lot of change."

Hanabi rolled her eyes. "Whatever you say, Sasuke..." She was starting to learn that he wasn't scary unless she ticked him off—so of course there was a part of her that liked poking the hornet's nest, but she tried to keep herself in check. "Just remember what I said. If you hurt my sister, I'm gonna find you and make you pay for it, no matter what it takes." She sounded sure of herself, but she was good at faking that confidence. Inside, she was regretting every word: _Did I just threaten Sasuke? I must be insane._

Fortunately, he didn't take it badly. He chuckled in fact, giving off a sound of honest amusement. "No doubt," he huffed with a tease. Hanabi was volatile and a bit bratty, but she was starting to grow on him. "Don't worry about her. She's getting stronger than even _she_ realizes..." He looked down to his fingertips, stained with a lingering gray tint of dusted iron. Shell's armor had been surprisingly tough—easy enough for Sasuke to break, but to know that Hinata had managed to dent it? That was quite a surprise, even for Sasuke—the one who had been tracking her progress every day for a month. He knew that she had _potential_ , sure, but frankly she was outperforming even _his_ generous expectations.

"I'm always gonna worry about her, Sasuke. She's my big sister." Hanabi shrugged, leaning her head to one side and letting her hair cascade down one shoulder of her sleeveless, thin vest. "Anyway, maybe I should get home...I've gotta be up early for training in the morning, like always."

Sasuke gave her a nod without protest, accepting her reasoning. He was ready to call the conversation to a close, anyhow. "Check on Hinata for me, then...be sure that she's comfortable. She's had a rough night...as for me, I have a 'jar of dirt' I need to clean out."

"Actually, I can come _help_ you with that, if you wan—", Hanabi began to say, but Sasuke seemed to vanish into thin air, leaving behind a rush of wind as he tended to do. She raised her arm to block her eyes from getting dried out by the sudden blast, and she felt her hair whipping around, going wild. She pouted a little, lowering her arms and huffing when the gust subsided. "Well...that was kinda rude. Didn't even say goodnight." She tsked, turning to hop down from the rooftop, bounding from wall to wall to slow her fall, crossing the air above the street multiple times before eventually landing gracefully at ground level. She lifted her foot backward, then picked a little dot of gravel out of her heel; she hated wearing shoes, but sometimes she also hated the inconvenience of going without them. The struggles of her life were _terrible_ and _numerous_.

* * *

 **Sorry I took so long with this one! I had a busy week, then with semi-awkward timing, a friend of mine kind of sort of commissioned me to write a one-shot Bleach story for her, so writing that up took over the time slot I had set aside for this chapter. I hope the delay didn't hurt too much! I'm starting college courses again on Monday, so there's a higher chance I'll take longer between chapters for a while, but rest assured that I'll be writing whenever I have the time. If I had unlimited time, I'd write every single day—unfortunately, as much as I love to do this story, it does take a fair chunk of my day to write each chapter, so I can't update** _ **quite**_ **as frequently as I'd like to when I have other commitments. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it. I'll be back with another one as soon as I can. Thanks for reading!**


	29. Interrogation

**This is an extra-long chapter, with an explanation for _why_ it's so long in the ending notes. Enjoy! **

* * *

Sasuke was glad that Hanabi didn't try to follow him, but not because he disliked her company. He simply preferred to keep Hinata out of the messy affair that was sure to come—and Hanabi was, in a way, an _extension_ of Hinata. Family; blood. Hinata still had her clan, almost _all_ of the old and young alike. Though the loss of Neji had clearly sent ripples through Hinata's soul and sense of safety, there were dozens of others with the Hyuuga name waiting to pat her on the shoulder and say _'it's okay, you're home now.'_ Although he had lost such comforts, Sasuke didn't resent her for what she had, though he might have done so a few years prior. He recalled the hatred he used to feel; when he pulled up those memories, he wanted to believe that he was a different person then, possessing a different _mind_ which had been driving him for those long years of exile and cruelty, but that was not the truth. They were _his_ hands, _his_ eyes, and _his_ thoughts that compelled his betrayal. Many people had been willing to blame his blood heritage, and even _he_ was tempted to accept the idea that the Uchiha's longstanding curse of hatred had been the sole cause of his actions, and yet he knew that to do so would be to deny his own role in it all. He took responsibility, even if he did so in private.

When the truth was spoken, with no frills and no distractions, he knew that he was the one who had caused his own betrayal, and with his very own will. He had broken Sakura's heart numerous times. He had driven Naruto close to death and madness on more than one occasion, as well. Despite that, Sasuke _was_ back in Konoha; he wanted to save it, to keep it intact. To make it peaceful. And yet as he sailed through the fresh village air on his way to take care of business, he couldn't help but acknowledge his own hypocrisy. He had once declared vengeance upon the Leaf; he had been determined to crush it beneath his own power. In doing so, he would have certainly killed Hinata and her entire family without a second thought. Even the barest possibility of such a thing happening sent chills through him. He hadn't simply been _misguided_ —in fact, he felt in retrospect that he was as evil as Danzo or Madara could ever have dreamed of being. He was a _monster_ , then, and with great fear he had felt the dangerous rage coming back in the face of what had happened that night. Would he become that monster again if he were to somehow lose Hinata? He hoped never to learn the answer.

As he leaped, he came upon a thick array of trees, one of the many pockets of nature that dotted the village landscape. There were trees around nearly every corner; the leaves of the village's namesake were thick and green in the late spring warmth. One tree in particular in that small grove had been designated as a discreet meeting place, and he saw its thick branches spread in every direction, towering over its wooden brethren with authority, like an older sibling both protective and assertive. Sasuke hopped into that tree and landed without a sound, concealing himself among the green coverage and laying a hand against the dense trunk at its center for balance. There were a few gaps in the leaves, one of which pointed out directly toward a very specific window across the nearby street. Sasuke took out a small mirror from the pouch upon his hip; it was an old-fashioned signal maker. The light of the full moon shone into his concealment in thin, silver beams, one of which he captured against the reflective surface and then turned in such a way that it shone into the window; it was high above, with no lights on beyond its glass panes. Sasuke tilted the signal back and forth a few times, ensuring that the message was received as flashing light. Confident that it was noticed, he tucked the mirror away and then sat himself down at the joint where his chosen branch met the robust center pillar of the great oak. From there, he waited for acknowledgment.

* * *

Hinata had exited the shower and given a satisfied sigh into the echo chamber of her bathroom. Although she was clean and fresh, she looked into the mirror to see that her chin was indeed bruised and had become slightly swollen. She poked the discolored, grayish-blue skin with a delicate fingertip and winced. The pain was noticeable, but bearable as well. She sighed and closed her eyes, reaching for a towel and wrapping it around her dripping body, finding another, smaller one to bundle around her hair and let its dripping wet heaps soak into the white, plush to dry. She looked down along her shoulders and arms, finding small bruises along her knuckles and wrists that had formed more fully during the time she spent in the hot water. As evidenced by the way she had hurt her own flesh with her strikes, she had been fighting harder than she had ever fought before, yet it still wasn't enough. Sasuke told her that she could have won without him, but she had doubts—what if he _hadn't_ come to save her? What did that man, Shell, actually _want_ with her? She plucked a few eyebrows that had been bent and otherwise ruined, trying to find some semblance of order in her damaged facial features. As she moved around, she felt bruises along her heel where she had tried to sweep the man's iron leg, but the dull ache didn't hinder her walking. All in all, she was banged up but nowhere near broken.

Satisfied with her condition as shown in the steamy mirror, she picked up a toothbrush and laid out a bit of paste, sticking it into her mouth and taking a deep breath of the minty fresh aroma as it filled her senses with soothing flavor. Until then, she had been tasting dust and blood—so the light green goop was a pleasant replacement, which she carried out of the bathroom and into her living space as she cleaned her teeth ritualistically. Her question of _'where's Hanabi?'_ was answered right away: predictably, there the younger sister was, parked on Hinata's bed with the book she had slipped away from Ko. Hanabi was on her back, holding the spine of the paperback in one hand and turning the page with her other. She seemed awfully comfortable. Hinata cleared her throat to get the sibling's attention.

Hanabi peeped over the top of the reading material with a slight blush on her cheeks. "Oh, hey sis...you took _forever_ in there, I was about to come in and see if you were still awake." She folded the corner of a page before closing the whole thing and tossing the book onto a shelf overhead, expertly allowing it to land between two thicker tomes that were mostly for show. They were some kind of shinobi history records that her sister kept in order to impress anybody who might stop by; at least, that's what Hanabi figured the never-opened texts were for. "You look like crap, you know...are you okay?"

Hinata sighed, unraveling the towel from around her hair after a final squeeze. The blue-black locks dried relatively quickly, because they were inadvertently cut somewhat short; the lowest tresses didn't even pass her shoulders anymore. It seemed as if every day she spent training with Sasuke had gradually trimmed the length down until it just barely caressed the upper slope of her arms. She pulled her toothbrush out to speak with a mouthful of suds: "I'm fine...and just so you know, Ko made me promise that I'd help him find that book. He's worried that Father might find it first." She ran her fingers through the dampness of her head, loving the feel of the soaked strands against her palms. The comforts of home were almost _unbearably_ soothing compared to the nightmare she had escaped. "Should a girl your age even be reading that kind of stuff?" Hinata slipped easily back into the role of big sister, trying her best to ignore the hardships of the day.

"What better age is there to start reading about romance and seduction? It's not like I'm a little kid anymore." Hanabi's cherubic little face curled into a sinister smirk. "Besides, maybe _you_ should read some of it, too. Might help you figure out how to handle Sasuke a bit better." There was a teasing wink, though her blushed face remained uncertain all the while. She had gone hot thinking of that tall, muscular-but-sleek male she had only recently finished talking to. Hanabi was jealous, and she wasn't very good at hiding it, but she'd deny it up and down if she were ever accused. " _Speaking_ of Sasuke..."

Hinata froze mid-stroke of her hair, fingers tangled up and hesitant. "What _about_ him?" She whispered quietly past her toothbrush, realizing with a sinking feeling in her chest that perhaps Hanabi had been watching them atop the mountain. If she had seen the kiss, the perfect and cherished moment of time, then she was never going to stop pestering her older sister about it. "He brought me home, that's all...don't get any ideas in your head." She had been telling _herself_ that, too, along with a few other things: _Don't get any ideas. A kiss is a kiss, you're looking too much into it. People kiss all the time and it doesn't always mean anything...But he saved my life; he avenged my pain. He came for me. He saw me to safety. Sasuke, what do you_ _ **actually**_ _think of me?_ Her lips quivered as she thought of his taste. She had showered and brushed it all away, toothpaste still flooding the sides of her mouth...and yet she could feel him, still. The hints of dirt and copper had gone, leaving only the mint and the faintest hint of her mentor's balmy flavor left against her lips.

Hanabi snickered, wiping the base of her mouth with the back of her thumb as if to scrape away a little bit of drool that had formed while she had read the inappropriate story. The book was out of her hands, but not out of her thoughts. "It's just, Sasuke's a _really_ attractive guy...he's tough, he's smart, he's intense, he's _mysterious_...everything a girl loves, right? So I gotta wonder, do you think you're the _only_ girl he treats this way?" Hanabi felt a little bit of cattiness spreading through her voice. She was on the war path, testing her sister's confidence. It was _mean_ of her, and she knew it, but it had to be done. Hinata was still recovering from heartbreak, thanks to Naruto, but it was _exactly_ that heartbreak which motivated the younger sibling to be so inquisitive. She had heard the certainty in Sasuke's voice when he declared his intent to keep Hinata safe, but keeping her safe wasn't the same as keeping her _happy_. She doubted his ability to really care for her sister the way she _needed_ to be cared for. She was strong-willed, but her tender heart was a bit...fragile. Especially _now_. "I mean, when the tournament's done and he doesn't need to train you anymore, do you think he'll still hang around like he's been doing?"

Hinata felt doubt rise up, and her brows flexed firmly; defensively. "What do you mean by that...?" She took a step back; her heel lightly slipped in a puddle of drips that she had left behind, but she didn't lose her footing despite her exhaustion. "Where else would he go?"

Hanabi shrugged. "I dunno, he's always been kind of a drifter, right? I mean, even when he was still living here as a kid, he didn't exactly keep any _close_ friends. Naruto and Sakura were about _it_ , but he _had_ to hang around them. They were his _team_." Hanabi's eyes darkened. She gave a serious glare from her lounged, laid-back position in Hinata's bed. "If he leaves without saying anything, will you be okay?"

Hinata gulped and felt like she was being accused of something. She matched Hanabi's stare with a timid flick of pale eyes. "He wouldn't just _leave_...would he?"

Hanabi shrugged. "Why not? He's done it before, and not just _once_ , either."

For a moment, Hinata was worried. But only for a moment. Gradually, she replaced her trembling, frantic frown with an easy, tiny smile. She gave Hanabi a happy look, appreciative for the topic despite being bothered by the possibilities suggested. "It's true, he _has_ left us behind before..." She thought back to the day Naruto returned from his honeymoon; Sasuke had been leaving without a word. He would have been _gone_ if she hadn't stopped him...but he _wasn't_ gone. He came back. Not only that, but he accepted her invitation to come _home_. Sasuke had taken her hand and he had come into the village of his own accord. In that moment, he had felt very _different_ to her. That was enough to settle her concerns, but then, even more convincingly... "He doesn't wear his cloak anymore; haven't you noticed?"

Hanabi perked a brow. "His _cloak_...?" She looked to the pale cream ceiling in thought, recalling the sparse, almost casual clothing Sasuke had been wearing. "Hey, yeah...I guess you're right. But what does _that_ have to do with anything? Couldn't he just put it back on before he goes?"

Hinata smiled wider, reassuring herself a bit more with every moment of thought. She didn't _need_ to ask Sasuke directly—she had been told the truth already, in a way that was typical of her master. With great subtlety, yet decisive power. "When he left the cloak behind for the first time, he was doing it for my sake. He was telling me that he wasn't going anywhere...and that he won't leave me behind. Not now, and not ever..." She was sure of it, even though she knew she probably shouldn't have been. "I've _felt_ it."

"I _wish_ I could have your confidence, sis, but maybe you're getting ahead of yourself...I mean, who even _is_ Sasuke? We all know he's Naruto's equal, and he's really _cool_ and all, but...do you know what makes him tick? Do you know what his hobbies are, what books he reads, the kind of music he likes, his favorite _color_... _anything_?"

Hinata shrugged softly, bringing a hand up to caress her own smooth skin along her collar. She was starting to dry, and her towel was rather damp with mild weight against her stomach, hips, and chest. "I don't think he _likes_ to talk about himself very much..."

"You'll have to _make_ him talk, then. If you _really_ want to be special to him, you're gonna have to get to know him better than _anybody_ does. Even Naruto, and especially Sakura! We can't have him trusting somebody else more than he trusts _you_ , get it? I've seen the way he looks at you, and it's pretty clear that you've got him caught in your web, but you still have to..." Hanabi clapped her hands together, crushing and twisting her palms against one another as if to dramatize the situation further. " _Strike_! Lock him down, right? If _you_ don't, somebody _else_ might."

Hinata giggled softly, shaking her head with a smile that spoke volumes of her certainty. "Is this something that you got out of that book?" she looked up at the pilfered paperback; it had a bright orange cover with a few dark red words lining the spine. The title was something along the lines of _Make-out Paradise,_ which didn't leave much doubt about its subject matter. "Sasuke is... _different_ , Hanabi. He isn't _like_ other people...and that's not a bad thing. Like you said, he's intense...and that intensity is something I can _feel_ when he looks at me. Even when he's not in the room, it's like I can sense it when he _thinks_ about me...and it feels warm, like a blanket laid over my shoulders." She blushed hard with her head tilted down in thought. She closed her eyes and hugged both of her shoulders with soft hands, as if tightening the aforementioned invisible blanket. "And I'm sure that he's thinking about me _right now_..."

Hanabi gazed upon her sister in total awe. There wasn't an ounce of doubt in any of those words. "Wow, Hinata..." She gulped, feeling suddenly petty for having ever questioned Hinata's confidence. "This isn't just a _crush_ anymore, is it?" She shivered along her legs, all the way to her bare toes, flexing her feet to soothe her giddy nerves. "You're seriously falling in _love_ with him, aren't you?" She was equal parts worried, jealous, and pleased. It was a confusing moment, but one that ultimately proved to be a calming one. That was the final assurance that Naruto's marriage was no longer consuming the elder sister's thoughts.

Hinata didn't confirm or deny it, standing in silence as the last few drops of shower water fell onto the floor at her feet. She opened her eyes slightly, peering through fuzzy vision to give Hanabi a relaxed look. Part of her wanted to panic and deny the observation with hands outstretched, but she simply _couldn't_. It wouldn't have _felt_ right to deny it. But she didn't _admit_ to anything, either. She simply stood there, basking in her own pleasant feelings. _So what_ if she was getting ahead of herself? Even if she had the _completely_ wrong impression of the last living Uchiha, she didn't care just then...because in that moment, she felt blissfully fulfilled. She was going to dream about him that night; it was guaranteed. She spoke to Hanabi and exhaled slowly. "I don't really know, Hanabi...but I've had a long night, and I'd really like to get some sleep." She approached her bedside, looking down at Hanabi with a sly, sisterly smirk. "You'd better finish reading _tonight_ , because I have to return this to Ko tomorrow. A promise is a promise." She winked playfully, reaching up to take the orange novel down, dropping it in Hanabi's lap.

Hanabi scowled lightly at the non-answer, having hoped to get a specific confession from her sibling. She had had a feeling that it wouldn't be _that_ easy, but even the non-answer had still given her a lot of insight. Hearing the words would only be a formality, at that point—Hanabi already _knew_ the truth. The teen plucked the book out of her own lap and tucked it into a wide pocket on the side of her pajama pants. " _Fiiiine_ , I guess I'll stay up tonight and finish it off." She climbed out of the violet-sheeted bed and stretched her arms out. "Sleep tight, Hinata..." She trailed off, rubbing the back of her head anxiously. "And I'm sorry if I bugged you too much."

Hinata reached over and gave her shorter relation a soft pat on the shoulder. "It's okay, Hanabi. I know you're just worried about me, but don't be. I'm going to be fine."

Hanabi smiled sheepishly, touching the hand on her shoulder with gleeful acknowledgment. While neither sister ever got much affection from their father, they supported one another in perfect fairness, leaning and pushing as the other demanded. "You should invite Sasuke over for dinner, sometime... _here_ , I mean. With the family."

Hinata was about to take off her towel and dress for bed, but the suggestion caught her by surprise and locked her up. She shook her head after a moment of thought. "I...really don't think that would be a good idea." She had _considered_ it before, sure, but it was a long shot. She wanted Sasuke to feel welcome in the village, but if she was the _only_ one who made him feel that way, it wouldn't make much difference for him. She wanted to help broaden his 'safe' zones so that he didn't always feel like a stranger in his own village. Still, despite that intention, a dinner at the Hyuuga residence wasn't the best way to make it happen. Even _if_ Sasuke himself agreed, then her father, or Ko, or really _anybody_ else in the family would have probably squashed the notion far in advance. And even if by some miracle it _were_ to be arranged, the actual gathering would probably go poorly. There were too many factors to worry about, and so Hinata regretfully had to concede it as little more than a dream. "It's just not possible."

Hanabi pouted a bit, crossing her arms. "If you _say_ so...but if you wanted me to, I could try to convince father to allow him over...and if _he_ approved, everybody _else_ would have to, as well, right? And since I'm the heiress, and all, I have _some_ say in things."

Hinata sighed, rubbing her forehead and pulling her bed's blanket aside as if preparing to climb in while still wearing her damp towel. It was a ploy to hurry her sister along, to get the topic out of her mind. "Go read, Hanabi. I'll see you in the morning." She bit her lower lip, unable to resist thinking about what had been suggested. Was it possible to earn her father's approval? Doubtful, but with Hanabi's help... _maybe_...

Hanabi gave a click of her tongue, tsking her teeth and shrugging. "Suit yourself," she mumbled, stepping out of the room while avoiding the trail of small puddles left behind in Hinata's wake. She left the room and shut off the lights, yawning as she patted her pocket to be certain that 'her' book was secure. "Sleep tight; hope you feel better in the morning." And with that, the door was closed and Hinata was alone with her thoughts.

They were good thoughts, relatively. Thoughts of Sasuke, both positive and negative...but even the negatives had grains of goodness to them. He had gotten violent, almost _crazily_ so, and yet it was for her sake. The thought both worried and excited her. She was responsible for his violence, but it was because he cared so much about her safety. Sasuke was willing to lose himself in order to protect her; to punish anybody who tried to hurt her. Shivering, she dropped her towel and dressed herself quickly in fuzzy sleeping clothes, climbing into bed and replacing her imagined thought-blanket with a thick, real layer of cloth that hugged her sore body with just enough weight to hold her shaking arms and legs still. She closed her eyes, and she saw Sasuke looking at her with a blank expression. She pursed her lips, then puckered them in the darkness. She wanted to kiss him again, and rather badly. It hadn't been enough. She wondered if she would ever get to kiss him another time—was it a spontaneous act, an adrenaline-pumped impulse that had come and gone, never to return? While her vulnerable heart was filled with the fear of future rejection, she fell asleep and allowed herself to dream of him, just as she had anticipated.

She dreamed of more kisses, of his familiar heartbeat, and of his soothing, luminous eyes. Sasuke's mismatched red and indigo orbs were cold and deadly to most, but to her, they symbolized comfort and protection. She hadn't admitted anything out loud, but she knew right away that Hanabi was correct. It _definitely_ wasn't just a crush anymore.

* * *

Sasuke wasn't kept waiting long; five minutes, at the most. He was willing to be patient in exchange for subtlety, a field which his contact was rather proficient in. Rather than approach traditionally, the operative arrived in a swirl of ink on the branch opposite Sasuke's own, perched on two feet and hunched over with bent knees. Sai was in ordinary, dark clothes with his Konoha headband laid across his forehead and a wet brush in his right hand, dripping with a little bit of leftover ink at the tail end of his short-range transportation technique. He looked to Sasuke with calm understanding, speaking right away: "It's been a while. Has something come up?"

Sasuke nodded curtly; no need for formalities. "Yes, something major. I'd like your help right away." Without waiting for an answer, he turned to leap out of the tree. He didn't need to turn his head to know that Sai was following behind, dressed in black and nearly impossible to see against the night sky. They both stayed high, beginning at the roof of Sai's apartment building and staying out of the light as they progressed to their destination. No words were exchanged; the risk of eavesdropping was very real, even despite their quick pace and concealed travel. It was past midnight, but there was still plenty of activity in the streets. Nothing compared to the daytime bustling, but still considerable—until they reached the developing properties along the outskirts, that is. Sasuke reached the disguised structure first, and when Sai landed at his left, the illusory barrier was quickly opened in the front to allow passage through the shimmering layer.

Sai followed behind Sasuke with analytical curiosity, glancing left and right with his fingertips ready to act with a split-second's notice. As his unofficial partner stepped through the open door, Sai took inventory and saw that there was wide-spread carnage laid all across the lowest floor. The ceiling overhead was caved in, and the resulting rubble was everywhere. The dust had settled, making for a thick white coating along the wooden floor. The three unconscious bodies beside the door were noticed first, then the man who was slumped over in critical condition with a pile of bricks up to his waist. Sai's eyes widened with recognition. " _Shell_...?"

Sasuke turned to regard Sai with suspicion, his hand instinctively dropping to the hilt of his sword. "You know him?"

Sai nodded. "Of course. He and I work together on guard shifts for the Hokage's office...what happened to him?" The pale-faced artist gave Sasuke a look of cautious wonder. "Rather...what did he do to deserve _this_ kind of beating?" While waiting for the answer to his question, Sai crossed the devastated ground floor and put his hand upon the unconscious guard's wrist, checking for a pulse. "He's alive," it was determined. " _Barely_ , but he's tough...he'll pull through, in time."

Sasuke nodded. "Check his wrist...tell me if he has the same tattoo as the two bodies you _lost_."

Sai winced a little. He could tell that Sasuke was still irritated about the mishap with the 'evidence' two weeks earlier. As had been predicted, when Sai returned to the morgue to fetch the pair of corpses with the tattoos, they had already been checked out and disposed of by, to quote the receptionist, _'one or more approved operatives'_. For confidentiality purposes, their names weren't taken and wouldn't be given even if they had been. Shinobi tended to keep their operations secretive—even from one another, when necessary. Hence, nobody in the morgue ever batted an eye when masked Anbu soldiers came in with unusual requests pertaining to bodies or other sorts of evidence. Hoping to make up for the loss, Sai turned Shell's wrist and gave a subdued hum. Though it wasn't reflected in his smooth voice, he was deeply shocked by what he saw. He had worked with Shell for years, first with the Anbu on particular missions, then as joint guardians of the Hokage. With only a half a breath of hesitation, he spoke. "Yes. This is similar to the mark that the others had..." He tilted the tanned arm up for Sasuke's benefit. The mark was a tiny circle about the size of a ladybug. It showed no obvious details at first glance, though there were a few pinprick-sized gaps in the solid black dot that suggested a specific design.

Sasuke switched on his Sharingan and stepped in for a close look. It was definitely made of ink—a tattoo, as Sai had suggested previously. It resided on the inside edge of the right wrist, molded along the joint and in line with the contours of the thumb. Sasuke focused intently, trying to determine the details. He could see that it was _some_ kind of symbol, but he had never come across it before, and even with his enhanced, legendary vision, the makeup was still rather fuzzy. "Whoever placed this isn't much of an artist..." Sasuke sighed, shaking his head. "It looks like an insignia of some kind, but it's not familiar to me." Sasuke brought his hand to his chin, brushing it in thought. He then turned to the three near the door. They were alive, too, but still unconscious all the same. He moved over to them, checking the same spot on their wrists. To his surprise, they didn't have the mark. "These guys don't have it," he announced.

Sai turned as well, dropping Shell's wrist with a certain level of respect, laying it gently on the brick pile. "That doesn't make sense," he declared, joining Sasuke in hunching beside the trio. Try as he might, he couldn't find any hint of the black mark upon their hands, wrists, or arms, on either side. "Why would _some_ of them have it, but not others?"

Sasuke pondered for a moment. "Maybe it's only for shinobi." He pulled open the black robes that all three men had been wearing, one at a time, revealing street clothes that didn't seem befitting of a shinobi on a mission, whether for the village or not. "These guys just seem like average thugs; I've dealt with plenty of men like them. Petty, willing to do anything for a small payday." Sasuke turned to look at Shell, still feeling a boil of hatred. It was subsiding, however slowly. The burner had been turned off, but the bubbles hadn't quite stopped and the steam was still rising rapidly. Every moment made his anger a little bit cooler, but it would still scorch a finger if one were to touch it. "Do you suppose your colleague there might have recruited them on his own?"

"It's possible...but who recruited Shell to begin with?" Sai folded his arms and took a deep breath, still wrestling with the realization of what had happened. "And who was the target...?" he asked, apprehensively. He knew that Hanabi had been picked out before. He had his theories, but he waited to be told.

"It was Hinata Hyuuga, this time," Sasuke revealed, taking some difficulty to keep his voice level. "After what happened with Hanabi, we have to think of this as a pattern. It isn't just some random incident anymore." Sasuke flexed his hand, squeezing tight. The scent in the room was faintly tinted by a linger of Hinata's blood—other things certainly overpowered it, but even the tiniest little whiff was enough to heat Sasuke's veins. "I have some important questions for 'Shell'. Can you wake him up?"

Sai flattened his lips a bit. "I don't think that's going to happen any time soon." He was beside the man in question right away, snapping his fingers in front of the unconscious, bald-headed face. Shell's eyes remained shut, his head lulled to the side limply. "Whatever you did to him must have been a _lot_ more harmful than a beating." He turned to face the Uchiha with just a hint of fear. "What _did_ you do?"

"No worse than he deserved," Sasuke answered cryptically through clenched teeth, turning away to avoid eye contact with the one asking. "In any case, I'd rather not wait here until he wakes up. _Whatever_ this place is, they lured her here with a plan. It's possible that more of their friends might be coming soon, and I'd rather not cause a commotion if they happen to see that something's amiss."

Sai nodded his agreement. "Right; we don't want there to be a stir. Wait here; I'll report to the Hokage right away and ask what we should do next." He was turning to leave, but a quick glance from Sasuke caused him to lurch to a stop on nimble feet. "Unless...you'd rather I _didn't_ do that." Despite Sai's loyalty to the Sixth Hokage, there was something more to be said about Sasuke's persuasiveness. "What would you have me do, then?"

Sasuke looked toward the inconsequential trio, indicating them with a directive hand gesture. "Those three should be dealt with; seal them away for now, if you can."

Sai nodded, reaching behind his back and producing a scroll from underneath his loose black shirt. "A wise call," he said earnestly as he slid the paper open. Sealing a live target in a scroll had some degree of risk, but no more than any other transportation or summoning technique, really. He laid the blank paper across the floor and began forming the hand signs necessary to lock the trio up nice and tight. "And what about Shell?" Sai inquired as his technique was finished and a puff of smoke replaced the three goons. His scroll was now covered with ink, three separate symbols lining the parchment to represent the three bodies now held captive in the thin layers.

"I'll take him _home_ with me, for now," Sasuke replied, giving the unconscious ring leader a harsh glare from halfway across the room. "I want to be there when he wakes up."

" _If_ he wakes up," Sai clarified as he rolled the scroll shut and tucked it away where he had gotten it from. "It's not _like_ you, Sasuke. Every other case of yours that I've examined has been so careful...gentle, even. Shell was once among the ranks of Root's strongest hunter-nin, but even _that_ shouldn't have been enough to push you beyond your usual limitations...what exactly is it that made him so different? Why is he nearly _dead_?"

"He's no _different_ from the usual scum, Sai," Sasuke uttered with calm truthfulness. "The only thing that sets him apart is the depth of the mistake he made. He's lucky to be alive at all; somebody saved his life."

"Hinata was able to stop you?" Sai asked, his voice a note lower than usual; he found it difficult to believe. Hinata wasn't known for being intimidating or assertive, but the situation also begged the question of why Sasuke was so invested in her safety.

Sasuke didn't answer that obvious question, the one containing the name that had _never_ left his mind. Instead of admitting how much the girl influenced his behavior, he continued on his own train of thought. "He _may_ wake on his own, eventually, but I think we should speed up the process." Because of the similarities, he thought back to his encounter with Itachi in a hotel someplace outside of the village many years prior. Sasuke recalled having been stricken with a long bout of unconsciousness after being exposed to Tsukuyomi. It took the touch of a remarkable healer to rouse him, as well as Kakashi, from that state. Shell had suffered a similar fate, by Sasuke's own design. Intentional, justified, satisfying, but _inconvenient_. "There's somebody who can wake him up right away...and I'd like for you to bring her to my apartment in the morning."

"Morning?" Sai asked, squinting with mild doubt. "Why wait?"

"I'd rather not disturb her rest to soon," Sasuke answered softly. "And I think our friend here will keep until then." He grabbed Shell around the throat, not at all careful with him as he yanked the muscular dead weight out of the mound of brick and mortar, allowing the pile to fall apart and clunk against the floor; heavy blocks bounced and cracked, spreading around. Shell was free of his heavy prison, but still very much unconscious. The wound in his abdomen had stopped bleeding, but there was a crusty black layer of scabbing that spoke to the grisly nature of the wound. Bruises and broken bones were visible along his body, most particularly the misshapen bend of his snapped elbow. "I'll take him, for now." Shell was hoisted over Sasuke's shoulder, the massive bulk of the unconscious traitor barely even registering as a feather against the Uchiha's solid frame. "Meet me at apartment 7 as soon as you can convince her to come."

"Do you mean Tsunade?" Sai asked, imagining the greatest healer he could think of. "Would she be willing to help behind the Hokage's back?"

Sasuke shook his head. "No, I mean the next best thing, or perhaps even better—Tsunade's apprentice, Sakura Haruno." He closed his eyes, picturing the lovely girl who had been drifting out of his thoughts steadily over the past weeks. He hadn't seen her since the night of her misguided confession on the roof of their dinner date. Perhaps things would be less awkward between them if there was some kind of pressing business to deal with. "You know her well; she'll trust you, and I think she'll be willing to help _me_ , too. Be sure to tell her that this operation is to be a _secret_ from the general public _before_ she agrees to it."

"And what about Naruto?" Sai pointed out, seeming skeptical. "He isn't exactly _good_ at keeping secrets...and it could be difficult to take his wife out on a mission without him tagging along."

Sasuke shrugged. "I won't be needing his help in this matter; not _yet_. If he happens to be there and wants to come along, there's no reason to _stop_ him. If you have concerns about his secrecy, then all you need to do is make the task sound boring..." Sasuke smirked, imagining the look on Naruto's face before a dull assignment. He hadn't seen his blonde almost-brother in two weeks, either. The situation between himself and Sakura had made their interactions quite a bit more difficult to arrange; he was actually starting to miss his old friend's rambunctious attitude. The truth of the matter was that Sasuke _probably_ could have woken Shell on his own, given the need, but he had been trying to engineer a circumstance under which he and Sakura could have a much-needed discussion without an awkward run-in or a specific meeting for that exact purpose. As terrible as Shell's attack was, the aftermath was a surprisingly convenient turn of events.

Sai gave a nod to Sasuke's suggestion. "Ah, you're right; he _does_ dislike boring missions. He believes that they waste his potential." With a glance to Sasuke and the cargo on his shoulder, Sai hummed. "Will you be able to get him there without trouble? I can store him in a scroll for you, if it would make the trip easier."

Sasuke shook his head. "No, that won't be necessary. I don't intend to be seen."

Sai smirked, turning back to the door. The ruins were going to be discovered eventually, barrier or not. Somebody had been working there; the construction was far from finished. The walls hadn't even been painted before they were completely obliterated on the inside. He hoped that Shell would have some answers, but somewhere deep inside of him he knew that things weren't going to be that easy. Sasuke seemed hopeful, but Sai knew the truth—Shell was once a member of Root, one of Danzo's pet projects just like many of the others. There was little chance of making him talk, but at the same time as he doubted Shell's propensity to crack, he also had to acknowledge that Sasuke had a number of extreme methods by which to extract information from a target—whether said target survived or not. "Until morning, then," Sai murmured.

Sasuke gave a nod, and even as Sai stared right at him, the Uchiha's exit went completely unseen. In one moment, he was perfectly still. In the next, he was gone. Emptiness. Sai recalled the first time he locked eyes with Sasuke, many years prior in the bowels of one of Orochimaru's hideouts. He could only see the eyes...and they _terrified_ him, even at a point in his life when his emotions were suppressed to the point of nonexistence. Strangely, he had grown less and less frightened of Sasuke as time passed. Especially after a specific point in time, one event that colored his perception of the Uchiha from that day forward. Sasuke was a hero to many, long before he ever could have known it.

* * *

Sasuke didn't take long to make it home; his speed was phenomenal, and he used it to reach the destitute corner of the village where he laid his head at night. The blurriness of his movements only came to an end as he stopped in front of his door, materializing out of nothing and stopping flat. With Shell slumped on his shoulder, he moved his hand to the knob of his front door and turned it open, unlocking it with a touch of his chakra. He didn't need a key; the lock was hardly necessary at all, were it not for the few precious personal belongings within that room. As the entry creaked open, Sasuke heard the landlord's outpost make the click of a similar turning handle. Sasuke quickly turned his head to see that Ryuza, the uneven-faced owner of the suddenly-legitimate apartment complex had been coincidentally stepping out to take his trash to the nearby dumpster.

He and Sasuke locked eyes for a split second. Ryuza's face went white with the realization that something was happening that he wanted no part of. Before Sasuke even had the need to speak, the short, round-bodied slob with a light brown stain on the chest of his white shirt turned his head and covered his eyes with a big hand. Across the concrete sidewalk that lined the outer ridge of the complex, Ryuza's grimy voice echoed cautiously: "Nope, didn't see _nothin_ '; the less I know the _better_ ," and with that he vanished back into his little cabinet. Odd that a man who owned an entire complex of modest apartments would settle for an even more modest little hut out front, but to each his own. As the door was shut tight and locked in five different ways, Sasuke couldn't resist a chuckle. He had certainly made the proper impression on the first night of his stay. He hadn't heard a troublemaking peep out of Ryuza or his hired goons since he set them straight.

With that little distraction tucked away, Sasuke entered his apartment and dropped Shell's fleshy body onto the uneven, splintery wooden floor. Delicate condition or not, he was still the person who most deserved Sasuke's hatred that night, and so he was rather fortunate that he _wasn't_ dead. Sasuke looked to the far right corner of his box-shaped residence, spotting the single wooden chair that had been tucked away for lack of purpose. It had a plain square seat and shaky, insecure legs. As he picked it up, Sasuke could feel that it was old and worn down; the wood had at some point been visited by termites, but even _those_ pests were no longer appetized by what remained. He set the chair out in an open portion of the floor, then lifted Shell up to sit him down clumsily upon its brittle support. It creaked and tilted, but held with a visible strain.

Although Sasuke was confident that the prisoner wouldn't wake on his own—and even if he _did_ , the man posed no threat whatsoever—there was still the instinct that told him to be cautious. And so, without getting a wink of sleep, the bright-eyed youth watched his captive with unblinking focus, following every beat of Shell's weak heart as it sent tiny shock waves through the unarmored skin; he heard and felt every single rasped breath, barely enough to sustain life. For a long night, the windowless and dark apartment housed all of Sasuke's rage. He considered finishing his earlier intentions, thought about slicing Shell's throat long-wise with the very tip of his sword. It would have been rather satisfying, but he had already set the wheels in motion to do something far more involved. And so with begrudgingly-tied hands, Sasuke set himself on the corner of his bed with his sword in hand and his eyes locked to the closed lids of Shell; a traitor, and one of the luckiest men in the world to still be breathing. Though, his luck was sure to change at the moment when his coma-like slumber was to be interrupted.

* * *

The sun rose slowly, peeking over the woodlands surrounding Konoha but not quite reaching the village within its crater. The ridge of the sky was bright and orange with the whispers of a new day, but the ground still chirped with nocturnal insects which the light hadn't quite bathed, yet. Sai was already on the move, accomplishing the task set upon him by Sasuke. He knew where Sakura and Naruto lived; he had visited on a few occasions in the past and was well-informed as to the important players in the village's politics and military strength. In fact, he was one of the very few who knew where Sasuke's residence actually was—not even the Hokage knew for sure, yet. Sai saw no reason to tell him until directly asked, either. Which may have been why Sasuke's insistence on bringing Shell to his home was so bizarre, also compounded with the fact that Sakura was being brought in, as well.

Arriving just a few minutes earlier than he had planned, Sai waited outside the door to Sakura and Naruto's second-floor apartment with his back to the outer wall until the sun touched the roof—that was dawn by anybody's standard, and he had been waiting long enough before that. He had gone home the night before and taken a fairly decent nap; a few hours long, which was about on par with his typical schedule. He had dressed himself in his usual clothes; black, gray, and red with a little bit of exposure around his pale midsection. The air was heating up rapidly as the sun rose past the horizon and drenched him in golden fire. He sucked air through his nose and knocked upon the door with a polite cadence, hoping not to be too jarring with his call. To his surprise, the door was answered after only three knocks, as if he had been expected.

Sakura stood there, hair out of place like she hadn't been able to brush it down, but she was dressed in a public-worthy red shirt and a black skirt that hung to her knees, hugging her hips and thighs _just_ enough to be fashionable without being suggestive. She blinked at who her guest was, and she brought a hand up to quickly pat down her frayed pink strands, puffing out her shirt a bit to dispel a few just-donned wrinkles. "Oh, hey there Sai! What're you doing here so early?" She asked in a kind voice, fitting right in with the birds who had started to sing under the sunrise.

Sai smiled his best smile and tilted his head. "Actually, I'm here to ask you for a big favor. It's rather important, in fact."

Sakura blinked, raising one soft brow. "A favor? What kind of favor comes up this early in the morning, Sai?" She yawned, politely covering her mouth as it gaped, then she rubbed the corners of her eyes. "But hey, I'm already up, so why not?" She forced a smile, though she seemed to still be shaking off the rust of rest.

"Do you mind if I ask where Naruto is, Sakura?" Sai wanted to sate his own curiosity; he hadn't seen or heard the usually-loud mutual friend within the house, either rustling or speaking.

"He's why I'm awake so early," Sakura lamented with a sort of huff. "He got up to get ready for the promotional photo shoot for the tournament ads; you know, fliers, posters, stickers, all kinds of things. He's the face of it all, and the photographer wanted to get some good shots during the sunrise, since Naruto is the 'dawn of a new age' for the world, you know?" She smiled genuinely as she thought of the truthfulness of that statement; though it was cheesy as part of an advertisement, it was a real fact nonetheless.

"You didn't go with him?" Sai pondered.

"Nah, I'd need at _least_ another hour to make myself presentable for photos; besides, they don't need me for the pamphlets or anything. It's all about Naruto and Sasuke...speaking of which, do you know where Sasuke has been? I've been meaning to..." She paused, nipping the inside edge of her lower lip with contemplation. "Talk to him about _something_ , but I haven't seen him around lately."

"I can take you to him," Sai offered right away. "In fact, Sasuke is the reason I'm here. He has a bit of a task, one which he'd like _you_ to help him complete."

Sakura's eyes narrowed. _A task?_ "Then why isn't he here, himself?" Something didn't seem right.

Sai looked over his shoulder, peering left and right. "It's a bit complicated, and _highly_ secretive; would you please come with me? I can explain everything when we arrive."

Sakura felt uneasy; Sai looked worried, but that was sort of his job as an Anbu who also happened to be one of the Hokage's trusted, elite guards. Still, it was unusual to see him so fidgety, looking over his shoulder and all. She would have felt terrible if she had refused the request, so she gave a firm nod. "Alright," she agreed, slipping on a pair of boots that had been sitting beside the door in the small foyer. Naruto would be gone for hours, still; she had time to kill, though even if she had been busy she would have dropped everything for the sake of Sai and Sasuke's request. For all their past faults and present turmoil, each member of Team 7 could still depend on the other when it mattered. And based on the look in Sai's eyes, it definitely _mattered_. "Take me to him," Sakura decided with a nod, preparing herself for whatever challenge she was going to be presented with as Sai answered her nod and turned to lead the way. They hurried.

Neither one of them wanted to keep Sasuke waiting.

* * *

It was morning, and even a little past. Sasuke was still patiently planted against the corner of his bed, watching Shell's living-but-damaged body slump. The beaten man didn't even twitch; it was clearly something deeper than sleep that kept his eyes closed. Getting just a bit impatient for every moment during which the sun was up but Sai hadn't returned, Sasuke stood from his bed and stepped closer to Shell. "You hurt her, and you were proud of it," he said to himself, more than anything. The attacker's jaw was slightly open, his chin hanging dumbly with his mouth doing his breathing for him. His face sagged, his arms were limp. He honestly looked pathetic, but nothing could ever properly represent exactly how low Sasuke saw him as. He wasn't even a cockroach, nor was he worth being called a virus. Dirt was above him on the hierarchy of cleanliness. "You're despicable; deplorable. I should kill you..." Sasuke reached his hand to the hilt of his sword, slowly drawing it out of its sheathe. The dark, windowless room hosted only the light of Sasuke's eyes and the faintest crack of sunlight coming from the borders of the door frame.

His sword was free, and its tip was placed against Shell's slackened chin. A quick cut, an easy stab, any number of things could have ended the wretched life...but no, he had opted to spare the bastard. Sasuke huffed, giving himself one spurt of laughter before taking the sword away. "But don't worry—I've turned over a new leaf, after all. If you happen to survive what comes next, I'll see to it that you grovel at Hinata's feet." He sheathed his sword as he detected a pair of presences outside his door; they were late by a few minutes, but he didn't mind all that much. There were a few hours to go before he and Hinata were set to begin another round of training, after all. He had plenty of time to do what needed to be done, so long as Sakura was agreeable.

Sasuke opened the door right before Sai could knock, which didn't register even the slightest change in Sai's demeanor. It was difficult to surprise the seasoned veteran of the Leaf's special operations units. He also knew that Sasuke was a remarkably keen and perceptive man; opening a door before a knock was made was among the least impressive of his capabilities by far. "Sasuke," Sai greeted, then turned his head to Sakura. "I've brought her, just like you asked. I haven't told her about the situation, other than its sensitive nature."

Sakura smiled sheepishly, locking her arms behind her back and twisting the front of her foot in the loose gravel that used to be a concrete sidewalk; it had fallen apart so quickly since it was built. She was avoiding eye contact with Sasuke, but she knew he was looking at her. She could always tell when she was being noticed, especially by a man like him. "H-hey, Sasuke...it's been a while, huh?" she tore her eyes off of the ground and gave him the courtesy of a quick glance and a hesitant smile. "Have you been alright since...the last time we talked?" She was gauging him; was he still upset? He didn't seem to be, although he really didn't seem to show any kind of emotion to her. It was strictly a business call, or so it appeared.

"I need you to heal somebody for us," Sasuke said after a moment of thoughtful silence. Business did indeed come first, but once that was done, he intended to have a talk. That could wait, though; the night had been long and irritating, more so than Sasuke had anticipated. He was ready to hear his prisoner sing. "He has information...very sensitive, _crucial_ information. Unfortunately, he's unconscious, and he doesn't seem to be improving on his own."

Sakura narrowed her eyes and stepped into the apartment before Sai, as the gentleman waved her in with a polite bow. She saw the dark, cramped, somewhat musty conditions of the room and she scrunched her nose. She saw the man in the chair, motionless. . She and Sai had passed several buildings in a state of disrepair; windows broken, signs torn down, doors cracked or missing knobs. The whole segment of the village was practically wreckage, and the apartment building she stood in was no exception. "So you brought him to _this_ dump to keep him hidden? That makes sense, I guess. Nobody would _want_ to look here..."

Sai winced, and Sasuke smirked. The Uchiha closed his eyes and took a breath through his nose. "That's right, I did. This place is perfect for people with something to hide." Apparently Sai hadn't mentioned that the 'dump' was Sasuke's home, temporary or not. The resident didn't seem to take it personally, or he was simply very good at hiding it. After all, it didn't exactly have his flair—the Uchiha-labeled clothing of his parents and himself had been tucked into the short stack of drawers beside the bed. No decorations told the tale, either. It _was_ a plain, cracked little abode that seemed like it could have been a throwaway hideout, even to the man who lived there.

Sakura approached Shell, but she didn't recognize him. Sai closed the door, making the place dark again. He then flipped on a switch, and a single bulb lit up, dangling from the ceiling on its own wire. It had long since been knocked loose from its bracing and was swinging slightly back and forth, slowly settling after being moved by a gentle breeze from the open-then-shut doorway. The medical ninja didn't seem to recognize her patient, though she squinted to get a good look at him. She ran a hand across his busted arm, feeling the displacement of the elbow joint and closing one eye while imagining how much it would have hurt. "Multiple broken bones," she narrated, following across his muscular ribs, pressing deep and feeling a bit of crispiness. "Numerous smaller fractures...hairlines, chips missing..." She then brought that hand to his forehead, and her eyes shot open as she probed him with a light green hue of glowing chakra. "His mind is... _agonized_." She tensed her face and pulled her hand away from Shell's forehead, clenching her fingers into a fist. She looked at the one who requested her services and she had a sadness in her green eyes. "Sasuke, what did you _do_ to this man?"

Sasuke was getting tired of giving the same answer, but he gave it all the same: "He deserved worse. He hurt somebody. Somebody who _matters_. What happened isn't important; can you bring him _out_ of it?" He looked away after a brief rant of self-justification; whether he was still in love with her or not, he was weak against Sakura's pleading, sorrowful gaze. He felt a touch of guilt, but it didn't last.

"Yeah...I think so..." Sakura cracked her knuckles and formed a few hand seals, preparing to put her skills to the test. She knew that Lady Tsunade could do it, so that should mean that she was capable of it, too. "It might take a little while, though."

Meanwhile, Sai had produced a roll of wire string, and he began to unravel it. He started to loop it around Shell's core, sure to trap his arms while he wound it tightly, over and over again, until the whole length had been consumed. He tied it firmly around itself, confident in its strength. He stepped back, looking at Sasuke as if to preemptively explain himself. "Just a precaution," Sai noted, then looked to Sakura. "Go ahead; see what you can do."

Sasuke had been silent; he didn't mind that Sai saw fit to bind their prisoner against the back and arms of the chair, but after what he had seen of Shell's strength, he didn't think any amount of wire would be enough to restrain him for long. No, the precaution was Sasuke's very presence. That was why he stayed to watch over the captive and sent Sai in his place—this moment was crucial. If Shell escaped, he would inform his comrades, and whatever operations had been planned would be kicked into overdrive. It was best to keep things quiet; his disappearance would surely be noticed, but there was still time before it mattered.

Sakura was glad for the bindings, whether they mattered or not, and she took a deep breath. Her hands were alight with soothing power, and she laid her palms on either side of his smooth scalp, clamping tightly and focusing on restoring consciousness. After a few minutes of silence, the hum of her medical ninjutsu began to grow monotonous, and because neither Sasuke nor Sai were noted conversationalists, she was the one to break the silence. "Sasuke...about the last time we talked..."

Sasuke looked to her flatly. "Shouldn't you focus on what you're doing?"

Sakura scowled. The look on her face said it all—Sai began to scoot his way to the door, muttering quietly as he excused himself from the conversation, one which he sensed was about to get _way_ more personal than he was comfortable with. "I'll keep watch outside...give a cry if you need me, either of you." And she vanished through the door, closing it behind him. A moment later, a light tap was heard from the roof two stories above; he was perched there, indeed serving as a lookout.

"We need to talk about it, Sasuke...I made a mistake, and I need to _fix_ it." Sakura felt herself tense; hairs on the back of her neck stood. She had been dreading the moment for two weeks; she simultaneously wanted to talk to Sasuke and wanted to avoid him, but since she was essentially trapped there, she had no other choice but to voice her thoughts. "I'm...sorry," she said quietly, under her breath. "I'm sorry if I gave you some kind of hope that isn't there..."

Sasuke felt a quick wash of relief come over him as she apologized; a part of him was worried that she wouldn't regret her confession, even after time had passed. "It's alright, Sakura," he whispered, keeping his eyes upon her. She was still the same beauty, the same girl whom had been his friend since childhood and who had never forsaken him to darkness. She and Naruto were both pillars of his humanity and strength; they continued reaching out to him even as he batted their hands away time and time again. "Do you still think that your marriage is a mistake?" He asked the question which had been nagging at him.

Sakura hesitated, but not because of uncertainty of her own answer. Sasuke looked at her, and she felt the pressure of his stare weighing heavily upon her head and neck. She met his eyes with unflinching surety, and when she answered, it was total. Finished. The issue was no longer an issue at all. "No, Sasuke...my marriage isn't a mistake. I was _stupid_ to think I was meant to be with you, really. I just talked without thinking, admitted that I loved you because I hadn't seen you for so long...plus, well...I saw you and _her_ together, and it made me jealous." She bit her lip, knowing her words sounded mean, and more than a little petty.

"Me and her...it made you jealous?" He looked to his hand, flexing it and falling into thoughts. Hinata was still on his mind, but what else was new? She had been such a constant thought that it wasn't really worth mentioning that she was there, off in the peripheral of his vision, begging to be noticed. "I know what that feels like," he admitted, his mouth turning to a wry smile. "Every time I saw you and Naruto together, I wanted to yank you away from him. 'That's _my_ Sakura,' I wanted to say. 'Why is she holding another man's hand?'" He shut his eyes. "But you're _not_ my Sakura; you're just Sakura, who is a girl I know, and a person I care about. It took me this long to realize it, myself, but you're right—we're not meant to be together. We never were, no matter how much I may have thought that I wanted it."

Sakura felt a familiar twist in her gut; Sasuke was spilling his feelings, and she had to fight off the urge to shed a few tears. Maybe she _would_ have been happy if she had waited for him; maybe in another life, they could have been lovers. She imagined that she would have been happy that way, too...but she was _already_ happy. Naruto, as simple as he could be, was a marvelous husband and a true hero to the world. She couldn't have asked for a _better_ life than the one she had, only one that was different. And she decided that she appreciated things exactly as they were. "Either way...we're still friends; we always _will_ be. You and I have a bond that can't be broken by time or bad feelings, right? It's just like you and Naruto: we're linked in a way that doesn't _let_ us ignore each other." Her hands stayed busy on Shell's head, and one eye was always turned toward him just in case. "So let's call a permanent truce. No more holding back, no more avoiding each other...no more secrets."

Sasuke nodded once, laying his hand in his lap and tapping his fingers along his upper thigh. He was awaiting Shell's revival with grim anticipation. Until then, he had no reason not to talk with Sakura. For the first time since he got the news of her wedding, he was beginning to feel at ease around her. The dirty laundry had been aired, cleaned, and then set out to dry anew. It would surely get dirty again, someday, but that was how life worked. Nobody could change the cycle; not _that_ one. "Agreed...no more secrets." Sasuke approved of the idea; secrets were dangerous. Secrets were the things that allowed a man like Shell to wander unopposed through the village, stationed only a stone's throw from the Hokage. No wonder Shizune was on edge the night he appeared in the office. Sasuke wondered if there had been any assassination attempts that simply hadn't been made public.

Sakura wasn't thinking along those lines at all; she still didn't quite understand the implications of the man she was treating. She was focused on Sasuke and the simple things in life. "So, since we're not keeping secrets anymore...what's going on with you and Hinata?" She gave him a sly smirk, hoping that he'd be a good sport about her timing.

A lump came into Sasuke's throat and he opened his mouth only to bite it closed. Whatever he said wasn't going to be good enough, so he settled on a shrug. "She's my student; she calls me her master. I don't especially like the title, but I guess it's not _wrong_."

Sakura snickered. "Master Uchiha, huh? Has a bit of a ring to it. I think you'll get used to being respected, if you let it happen. Have you made any other friends since you got here again? I mean aside from Sai, that is."

Sasuke looked to the ceiling in thought, wondering if he had made any friends. "Not really," he decided. "Nobody that I didn't know before."

Unpainted lips frowned on Sakura's face, but it was exaggerated like a pout. "That's no good. You ought to find people who share your interests and get out and have fun with them. We haven't really kept up, so I'm kinda lost on what you like to do. Give me a few examples and I'll recommend a few places you can go, a few people you can meet with." She seemed a little bit _too_ enthusiastic. Maybe she had forgotten how much Sasuke appreciated his privacy and isolation.

"That won't be necessary," Sasuke answered in his usual calm. "I've got my own schedule to keep; I don't have room for book club meetings."

"Ah, sure...I forgot how organized you are; every second of every day has a purpose for you. Naruto's the opposite, always changing his mind back and forth, so I've gotten used to a pretty hectic lifestyle...just this morning, he ran off to a photo shoot that wasn't supposed to happen until _next_ week." Sakura cleared her throat and gave her best Naruto impression; it wasn't bad, actually. Just husky enough to be passable. "' _Hey, Sakura, I'm gonna go get it over with right away, I'm sure the guy won't mind if I show up early_!'" She rolled her eyes. "It's like he doesn't understand that some people make _plans_ before doing something. I bet my darling husband knocked some poor family out of their appointment for postcard pictures; and they probably didn't even _mind_. All Naruto has to do is offer an autograph or two, and people forgive him. I think his fame is going to his head," She said it all with a smile, no resentment or annoyance to be seen. "But deep down I know he hasn't changed. He's still a goofball who loves everybody he meets, and that's a big part of why I love him so damn much. He's just so magnetic."

Sasuke nodded. "He's just the sort of person this world needed; one who never lies, never betrays, and never gives up on people. I've come to think of Naruto as a gift to a misguided world. He's there to show us all the way...the right way. Even though he makes mistakes, he does what he can to correct them; he's a good example to follow."

"Right...but you're a good example, too, Sasuke," Sakura said with a humble smile. "Naruto's proof that good people can stay good...but you're proof that people can change for the better. You started off...confused. But you got through it; you're here with us, now. There's kindness in your eyes that wasn't there before."

"Whether I changed or not, there are others who don't want to change." He gave a tilt of his head toward Shell. "He lives in a village that's at peace, but he resents the peace. He wants war, for no good reason other than to fight and become stronger. That kind of single-minded fury is going to lead this world back into ruin if we don't do something to reroute it. No state lasts forever; peace or war, it eventually grows stale and crumbles away. Change is inevitable; the only thing we can do about it is ensure that when it happens, it's a _positive_ change, rather than negative."

"Is that why you didn't just kill this guy?" Sakura asked, turning her full attention to her wire-wrapped patient. "Because you don't want to shed blood to solve the problem?"

Sasuke shook his head. "No...I kept him alive because I need to know what he knows about who's in charge. What he did...it's not the first time it has happened since I've come back. Someone is putting these shinobi up to these tasks; someone treacherous, someone with a lot of resources. I need to know _who_."

"Come on, Sasuke, I'm not daft...I know you don't need to keep a person alive to find out what they know." She gave her teammate a knowing glance, soft and approving. "You spared him because you don't _want_ to kill people...even if they're bad, and even if you don't _believe_ that's how you feel."

Sasuke clenched his jaw a bit. Sakura knew the truth; it's a _fact_ that he would have killed Shell if not for Hinata's interference at a crucial moment, but even after he was calmed, he didn't _need_ to keep the fool alive. Something inside him, something _merciful_ , compelled him to call Sakura instead. To give Shell a chance to speak for himself and redeem his actions, even if only in the slightest of ways. "Whatever you say, Sakura; just focus on waking him up." He huffed, lip twitching in annoyance. That was one thing he didn't like about Sakura—she knew him too well, and didn't hesitate to call him out. She had a tendency toward telling him things that he didn't even want to admit to himself, and she had an especially annoying secondary habit of being _right_ about it. Not always, but often enough.

Sakura knew she had him, so she smirked. She was about to ask about Hinata again, but to her sudden shock she turned back to Shell to see that his eyes had sprung open, bloodshot and alert. She yelped slightly and pulled her hands off of his head, stepping back and looking to Sasuke. Shell growled mightily, and despite his dislocated shoulder and broken elbow he struggled against his wire restraints. He thrashed his head from side to side, then roared with defiance. "You should've killed me when you _could_!" Without seals and without any hesitation, Shell's flesh began to shift shades; from a brownish tan to a deep black, he transitioned into a body of pure iron. In the same motion, the magnetism that kept the newly-created iron in a liquid-like state of flexibility also jerked his arm back into its socket. The broken elbow couldn't be helped, but he fought the pain as his consciousness came together. All the while, Sasuke watched him calmly.

Shell felt the ties that held him to the chair; rather than break the flimsy furniture, he went for the strands around his core. Without a simple flex of his muscles, the iron of his chest and arms took a new shape, protruding instantly from his hard surface to become spikes, three inches long and easily shredding his bindings. The wires fell to the floor uselessly with a uniform snap as they were severed, and Shell stood from the chair with a second wind. His movements were sluggish and his vision was horribly distorted, but he was too angry to care. He looked at Sakura and he snarled, lashing out at his presumed captor by leaping out of his chair and reeling his arm back, ready to lay his knuckles into her throat. Sakura didn't flinch as he approached; she was ready to knock the lights out of him if he got too close, but the need never arose: Sasuke took over.

Shell stopped moving as he felt a hand upon the top of his head, gentle fingers that were practically massaging his scalp, but the tingling feeling was anything but relaxing. He felt himself being made empty, and not just of chakra—of everything. He gasped dryly, realizing that he was thirsty. As he tried to form thoughts, they were scrambled. His legs tried to move forward, but he was halted by a whispered warning from the Uchiha's quiet voice. "Don't move too much...I've got your soul in my hand. If you wander too far away, it might slip all the way out...and once it's out, I won't be able to put it back _in_."

The behemoth could tell that Sasuke wasn't bluffing—the ability to extract souls was another well-documented power of the Rinnegan. In addition to being an instant kill, it also had the benefit of providing the soul-stealer with all of the knowledge possessed by the deceased. Shell took a long breath and finally admitted that he was far outmatched. The pain in his elbow was beginning to register, as well, as the haze of his fresh awakening was shaken off. "Sasuke Uchiha...you allowed me to live...why is that?" He turned his eyes; he was too frightened to move his head whilst his spirit was being clutched through his skull.

Sasuke smirked; he was in control, indisputably. Sai was indeed paying attention from outside; Shell's outburst had brought his fellow Anbu back into the room, paintbrush in one hand and empty scroll in the other, ready for combat. "Are you alright, Sas—" he breathed a sigh of relief. He could see the glimmer of blue energy along Sasuke's fingertips; he knew as well as any Anbu worth his salt that the Rinnegan had total dominion over every element—including chakra, gravity, and _souls_. "Nevermind." Sai closed the door and stepped inside, mostly glad that the personal talk was no longer a threat.

Sasuke gave Sai a nod, then answered Shell's question. "I kept you alive because I'd like you to answer a few questions for me. I think you can guess as to what most of them are."

Shell heaved a sigh of loss. He couldn't combat the hold on his soul, and even if he were to somehow escape, he could recognize Sakura as his vision became clear—she was one of the strongest shinobi in Konoha, and the same was true of Sai. Even if Sasuke _hadn't_ been there, Shell knew would have caused far too much commotion trying to deal with _both_ of those two. "You've got me, for now...ask your questions. I'll never lie to someone who has my fate in his hands..."

Pleased by the response, Sasuke nodded. "First off...I'd like to know where you received your mission to attack Hinata Hyuuga."

"I don't know who gave it to me," Shell said easily. Sasuke squeezed his skull; the iron armor was still in place, but it did nothing to shield him from the pain that shocked his very _life_. "Grah! It's the _truth_ , I never saw a face...never heard a _name_."

"Then where did it come from? Was it _your_ idea?" Sasuke almost wanted him to say yes. If it had been his plan to begin with, then yanking the soul out of him would be genuinely cathartic. Until he knew for sure, Shell was just a minion—a man on a mission. There was somebody else out there who wanted to hurt Hinata and her sister; Sasuke wanted to know who.

"N-no," Shell stuttered, still recovering from the agony that ignored his muscles and went straight through his nerves. "It wasn't my idea...but I share the sentiment I was presented with. This village needs turmoil...unrest. Without it, we'll soften...we'll be _devoured_."

Sakura spoke up from the other end of the room, crossing her arms and looking stern. "That's a _lie_...Naruto and Sasuke will keep us safe no matter _what_."

Shell grinned at Sakura; even his teeth and gums were covered in iron, an unsettling sight to behold as the dull metal reflected the blurry yellow lighting of the bulb swaying overhead. "Not even _they_ can be everywhere at once, little girl...and they won't live forever. When they die, who will keep this tender, decayed village out of enemy hands?"

Sasuke gave another excruciating flex of his hand, bringing out a harsh gargle from Shell's throat as one hand came up to grasp Sasuke's wrist. He wanted to pull it away from his head, to make him release him, yet the struggle only caused the pain to deepen until he was forced to let his grip down. He sucked air as fast and hard as he could, but he still felt like he was drowning in the scent of nothing. It was as if his nose had been numbed and his mouth sewn shut; air was entering him, but he was never sated of his need for oxygen. The feeling subsided as soon as Sasuke deemed it to have been enough punishment. The Uchiha asked his next question: "If you never saw a face, never heard a name, and didn't come up with the idea on your own...then where _did_ it come from?"

"A note...in my locker at the Anbu headquarters." He knew better than to try to lie. "Typed, not written...plain paper, no evidence. I checked it a dozen times over for clues as to its origins, but I came up with nothing...it promised me that I could change the course of Konoha...I could make us _great_ again..." He kept his eyes closed, but his voice was cracking. "That's all I've ever wanted for us, Sasuke Uchiha...to be strong. Untouchable." He turned his head toward Sai, though he did so very carefully. "Sai...you feel the same, don't you?"

Sai said nothing at first; he was still a bit shocked by Shell's willingness to answer Sasuke's questions. He decided at once that he never wanted to have his soul in someone else's hands—least of all Sasuke's. When Sasuke looked to Sai for a response, the other Black Ops member in the room felt compelled to respond: "I believe in making Konoha great, it's true...but I'm afraid that I've been corrupted by Naruto Uzumaki's perspective. I think greatness comes from compassion; from friendship. I think we are getting stronger every day, even if our military capacity continues to shrink. The world which we're building now is one that will, eventually, no longer _need_ soldiers like us. Won't that be nice?" Sai gave his best fake smile.

Shell recognized it as a false expression and gave a smile of his own, nearly identical. "You're lost to us, Sai...damaged goods. No wonder you were never given the same offer..."

Sasuke's interest was caught. "Who else has been recruited to this _cause_ of yours?"

Shell chuckled sinisterly. "More than I can rightly count...dozens, maybe hundreds. Those of us who still believe in Lord Danzo's vision of the future have been waiting _years_ for an opportunity like this...a chance to _pounce_. You've stopped _me_ , little Uchiha, but you won't be able to stop us all..."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that," Sakura chimed in, getting fed up with their prisoner's attitude. She flexed a fist and clutched her wrist with her other hand, priming her chakra as if she were about to give him a good old solid punch. "Let me knock a few teeth out; he might stop grinning _then_..."

Sasuke smirked toward the feisty woman he knew and admired. "Now you see what I mean...he deserved everything I gave him, and even more." He diverted his attention back to Shell. "Now, if I were to ask you what kidnapping Hinata and Hanabi Hyuuga was meant to accomplish, would you have a satisfactory answer for me?"

Shivering under Sasuke's grasp, Shell shook his head. "No...I don't know what it's meant to achieve, either...I was selected to target Hinata because of my particular set of skills...the one who wrote the letter knew me well...told me that I'd have another chance to fulfill my purpose. To hunt a Hyuuga." He smirked at the memory. "Oh, my blood pumped so quickly as I read those words...I was to be a hidden hero of Konoha; a savior to those who don't know any better. Just as Root was always intended to be, before it was dissolved...by _you_." There was hatred in Shell's voice; defiance that was just tame enough to keep his soul from being scorched again. "I only know that I was promised a reward when my mission was successfully completed...and that if my mission was unsuccessful, that I would never be contacted again. No risk; of course I took the chance."

Sasuke's fingers came off of Shell's head, and he turned away from his interrogation to brush the bottom of his chin in thought. "So what about the mark on your wrist...?"

Shell narrowed his eyes. "Mark...?" He had fallen down to his knees once released, but he knew better than to try to lash out. His broken arm had become horrifyingly painful, but he had to hide his agony from those around him. He had a reputation to maintain. Especially in front of Sai—he resented the brat for being so quick to fold over to the wrong way of thinking, but in the end they were still peers. He still felt the need to keep a tough appearance, lest he be mocked. " _What_ mark?"

Sasuke was instantly annoyed, reaching down to grab Shell's right wrist and hoist it up, squeezing purposeful fingers against the iron that was supposed to protect the skin beneath—it cracked like glass, same as before, and sprinkled down to the floor while leaving a neat ring of exposed flesh around the base of the man's hand. Shell groaned in pain, but he looked down at his wrist as he was compelled to do so. Sasuke showed it to him, the tiny black circle. " _This_ mark," Sasuke said calmly. "Surely you remember where it came from...you'd be a lousy ninja if you didn't."

"Oh..." Shell grunted with strain through his tight throat. " _That_ one..." He winced, trying to yank his hand away, but Sasuke kept a solid grip. "I put it there myself...it was part of my instructions." He shrugged one shoulder, doing his best not to agitate his ruined joint along the arm. "I don't know what it is, or what it means, or why I have to bear it...but I don't question orders from a person who _understands_."

Sasuke released Shell's wrist. He wasn't getting the information he wanted, but he could also see that his captive wasn't lying; perhaps a bit forgetful, but not a liar. "You must have been given an example, if you were ordered to mimic it on your own...show me your source, and that will be the end of it. I'll let you go free."

Shell blinked. "Go _free_...? Don't you _get_ it, Sasuke Uchiha? I've failed my _mission_...I've lost my _purpose_. What is there for me in _freedom_?" he scoffed. "Besides, I'm a traitor to the false Hokage. You don't have the power to guarantee my freedom; I'll be locked away or put to death the moment I'm found out. My fate was sealed as soon as you showed up in that place to interfere."

"Show me the source. You must have a _copy_ of it, somewhere...something you based your own design upon." Sasuke was repeating his question; he didn't seem moved by the sob story.

"Kill me, then, because I burned the only copy I had...as per my instructions." Shell smirked. He didn't seem sorry. "This person you're looking for...whether it's a man or a woman, old or young, they know how to operate in _secrecy_. No loose ends; no risks. Like an assassin, or even a shrewd businessperson...even if I _wanted_ to help you, even if I _regretted_ my actions...there's nothing I can give you."

"You don't regret hurting her...do you?" Sasuke's voice went cold. "Do you wish you could take back the pain you caused her?" He didn't care that Sakura and Sai were in the room—his anger was not a secret. His student, his lover, _whatever_ she was to him—she had been hurt. And he was not happy about it.

Shell gave an iron grin, knowing that his answer could very well be his final words. "No...I don't have any regrets. In fact, I'd _do it all over again_ if I ever happen to cross paths with her on another day..."

Sasuke smirked. "If that day ever comes, she'll be the one to crush you beneath her heel." Rather than rip the bastard's soul out, a thought which had crossed his mind as the traitor refused to show remorse, Sasuke turned his eyes down to Shell and made contact. It was a simple genjutsu, this time—one meant to disable, not torture. Sasuke had caused enough pain for one day, and he was growing weary of it. He placed Shell under a rudimentary sleep spell, and the armored lump of cruelty went slack in an instant and banged his heavy head against the wooden floor on the way down. As he lost consciousness, his armor peeled away like the dry skin of an onion. "Get him out of my sight, Sai...do whatever you want with him, but keep him secure."

Sai nodded, immediately responding to the order. He laid down the open scroll he had been wielding, quickly taking Shell's non-resistant form into the page with a flex of his hand and a familiar puff of smoke. "As you say, Chief." He gave Sasuke a cunning little smirk, rolling up the scroll and turning to head out the door before he could be chastised for his choice of words. He was gone in a flash, unseen by any, leaving behind only a smudge of ink against the gravel that laid in front of Sasuke's apartment.

Now that it was only him and Sakura, Sasuke gave her a relaxed glance. "By the way...this is where I've been living. It's a dump, but it serves me well."

Sakura blushed, recalling her words. In all the commotion she had almost forgotten about what she said. "Oh, I didn't mean... _bad_ ," She chuckled nervously. "It's... _efficient_ ," she came up with, noting how close the shower was to the bed. "I hate taking a long walk to get to my room while I'm soaking wet from a hot shower..." She rubbed the back of her head, scooting over to the door with sidestep after sidestep. "Anyway...uh...it's been good seeing you, Sasuke. I'll tell Naruto that you said hi."

Sasuke watched her go with an amused gleam in his eyes, black and powerless once more. "Take care of yourself, Sakura. Feel free to visit when you're in the mood for some 'efficiency.' Just mind the neighborhood; the locals aren't very friendly."

Pausing in her escape, Sakura nipped the middle knuckle of her pointer finger, making an observation. "Yeah, I noticed that on the way here...everything seems dirty, and ruined. If you want to stay with me and Naruto, we can find a spot for you...the offer hasn't gone away. Plus, I think Kakashi-sensei would be willing to house you in the Hokage's residence, at least for a while. You don't have to surround yourself with these... _conditions_."

"I made a choice to come here, Sakura. I want to be face to face with the rotting core of Konoha; these people who live here aren't loyal to this village. They're outcasts; refugees. The leftovers from the war who have nowhere to call home. I fit right in." He smirked sardonically. "Though, every day that passes makes me feel a little bit more comfortable calling this village my own."

"Does Hinata have something to do with that?" Sakura asked slyly, getting right to the point. "You seemed awfully upset that she got hurt..."

Sasuke didn't give in to the needling, not right away. "I'd be upset if _you_ got hurt, too..."

"Maybe," Sakura conceded. "But let's not test that theory. I don't plan on getting hurt any time soon." Silence followed that comment, and Sakura rocked herself from heel to toe as if trying to think of something else to say. "I should probably head home...I don't know how much longer Naruto will be away; I'd rather not be gone when he shows up, because then he'll run out to look for me...and I'll probably get home right as he leaves, so he won't find me until he's already given up looking and comes back to take a nap." She grinned at the thought.

"Go ahead, then. I'll try to keep in touch—and remember, don't go around talking about what happened here. You heard him: there are dozens, maybe hundreds of others just like him. For now, they're hiding...but if we poke the hornet's nest, they may come out stinging. It's best to handle this with some tact."

Sakura gave a slow, understanding nod. "Tact. So...you're saying that I should keep Naruto out of it, for now. Got it." She winked, turning with a dainty wave of three fingers as she exited the humble interrogation room/single bedroom apartment. "Say hi to Hinata for me when you see her later!" she added on as one last poke. She imagined that Sasuke was blushing while thinking of the ocean-haired young woman, and she was right, though she didn't peek back to see. Her imagination was always more vivid than reality, so she stuck with it.

Sasuke was alone in his apartment once more, his head crowded with thoughts of Hinata. He should have killed Shell; should have sucked the soul right out through his head. He would have gotten all of the information he was looking for and had the added bonus of relieving a piece of scum of his wretched life. But that wasn't the kind of man Sasuke wanted to be anymore. He turned to his dresser drawers, sliding one out and looking upon the item laid on top of the dinner plate and his mother's ragged blouse—it was his father's uniform, still torn and dirty. Before he cleaned it, he would need to repair it, lest it fall apart in the laundry. It was still early—perhaps seven, seven-thirty—and he wasn't going to rush to a start, that day. Hinata was wounded; she would need her rest. In fact, he was tempted to give her the day off—perhaps a _supervised_ day off, but a day off nonetheless.

With nothing better to do for a few hours, Sasuke dug further down into the drawer, finding something which he had discretely purchased a few days earlier—a sewing kit, with a needle and several different colors of thread. He pulled out his father's old-styled outfit and laid it upon his bed, taking inventory of the rips and broken seams. As he did that, his hand was fishing through the kit and searching for just the right shade of blue to match the cloth of the pants and undershirt. When he found it, he clutched the needle point in his teeth and used his single hand to thread the eye of the needle in a single try. With a small amount of effort from fingers and teeth, he tied the thread in place and began to fix some of the smaller, less-troublesome tears and slits with careful, precise stitching. He was far from an expert in sewing, but he felt compelled to do it himself—it was his family's legacy; it was his _duty_. Whether he became the Chief or not, he refused to allow his father's adornments to wallow in disrepair forever. Those clothes bore the Uchiha symbol—they deserved respect, and that's what Sasuke gave them.

* * *

 **So as you've probably noticed, this chapter is _nearly_ double the length of a usual one. That's because I had originally planned it out to _be_ two chapters, but decided to smash it all into one update because I was compelled to keep writing for a lot longer than a usual session. I didn't try to rush it, or anything, but I know how much you guys look forward to SasuHina interactions, and since the next 'two' chapters didn't have any, I decided to push them together so you only had to suffer through one update without any, haha! But seriously, I had a long week of college work and a dentist appointment, so when I finally hit the weekend I was ready to unwind and do a _lot_ of writing. Especially since next week is going to be largely the same; I'll keep writing when I can, but for now I don't think I'll be updating quite as quickly as I was for a long time. I apologize for that, but there's not much I can do about it. Also, don't get used to chapters this big! It was a lot of work and I just _know_ I missed a bunch of minor edits. Thank you for reading so far, and I look forward to posting the next chapter! I hope you liked this one, since I know it's kind of a long read. If it's riddled with errors, I apologize, but with so much text it's tough to catch everything. I promise the next one will be proofread a lot better =P**


	30. Talking

**Sorry about the wait. I hope it was worth it!**

* * *

Hinata woke with a sudden jolt and threw her covers off. She took a deep breath, seated upright in her bed with a lump in her throat. After taking a moment to verify that she was home and safe, she punched her chest with the thumb-side of her right fist, forcing her airways to open and her body to realize that it was no longer submerged in hell. The nightmare had been intense; formless, nameless creatures surrounding her with tendrils and spikes, trying to drag her down into the open maw of some beast; a snake, perhaps even a dragon. She could feel the heat as if it were real, and when she brushed her hands down each pale arm she realized that she was sweating all over. She trembled with memories of a nightmare, memories that were swiftly turning to ash, and then the pain set in. She had known that it was going to be worse on the second day than the first—bruises and soreness always were—but she hadn't anticipated just how heavily it would hit her. Though she was seated, she still wobbled in her half-upright position. She nearly fell back down and returned to sleep, but her eyes happened to catch the clock in the corner of her vision. It was past eleven in the morning, very nearly noon. She looked around her room and saw that nothing had been burned by the flames of her dream world; the high window allowed slits of bright yellow sunlight to shine into her bed.

She panicked, briefly, as she realized the time with a second glance. She was going to be late for her training with Sasuke. Her eyes jolted open from their half-lidded laziness as that thought occurred, and she sprang out of bed without concern for her sensitive ankle. She landed on her heel and expected to roll forward onto her toes, but she didn't make it that far. She felt a strip of pain latch onto the back of her calf, and she instantly lost support and fell onto her knee with a mild thud. She winced, reaching her hand back to grasp her tender leg muscle, then took another deep breath. She tried to ignore her worries about being late; more so, she tried to ignore her nightmare. Shell's attack had done far more to damage her sense of peace than she had realized at first. She had been too high on the pleasure of Sasuke's kiss to even _imagine_ the real implications of what happened that night. In the morning, though, when the bliss now had several hours worth of haze which padded and muted her memory of it, she had returned to the pain. The fear. The helplessness.

Again, she tried to stand up; she grabbed hold of her nightstand, wobbling the fancily carved legs of the waist-high table as she laid her arm across it and hoisted her body forward and upward. The wood held, but it wasn't happy about it. She could feel it creaking beneath her bony elbow. This time, her foot was able to adjust to the pain and support her weight. She waited a moment, allowing her head to regain its blood flow. Everything about her body seemed to disobey her, but only briefly. It was a new sensation, all that agony. She had felt severe pain before; Neji had ruined her body during their battle in the exams, Pain had nearly killed her, and even during the war she had been pushed to her limits...but there was _more_ to this sensation than just physical reactions and tingling nerves. This time it was worse than ever, because the person who had caused her such agony was never supposed to be her opponent at all. Shell. A monster; a traitor. He had deceived her, lured her into a trap. She eventually saw through it, but her perception hit her a moment too late. Sasuke had saved her life—he avenged her with beautiful perfection. His rage was oddly soothing to Hinata, despite the primal fear she had felt as she watched him unleash it.

The snake—or the dragon—in her dream came to light in her thoughts again. The gaping maw that sought to swallow her. It didn't belong to Sasuke. No, she realized that the blood-red mouth and massive, curved teeth belonged to Konoha itself. There was a gateway to hell in her home village someplace, and demons like Shell and the men who attacked Hanabi were beginning to crawl out of it. Meanwhile, the citizenry was more worried about Sasuke than any threat that might come from their 'own' kin. Sasuke was the _outsider_ , thus he was the one to receive all of their suspicion. Perhaps his presence in the village was the catalyst for the traitors being rallied into action? Sasuke made for a magnificent distraction, after all. Hinata cleared her head and felt her sweaty, sticky arms again. She was already late, but she wanted another shower. Stable on her feet, she moved toward her bathroom but then paused. It wasn't worth the time; she was going to need one later that night, anyhow. Sasuke was no doubt impatiently tapping his sword upon the ground, counting the seconds until she arrived. She grabbed a towel from the top shelf of her closet, dabbed herself dry enough to be presentable, then changed into her form-fitting training clothes. Every movement hurt, but she knew that it would clear up once she became active again. They were only bumps and bruises; nothing to fret over.

Dressed and _kind of_ presentable, she left her room and looked down the hall both ways. She could hear low voices, conversations that had nothing to do with her. Recognizable voices, all of them. When she left her room, she kept to her toes, creeping quietly through the wood-floored corridor. She wasn't in the mood to be stopped on the way out; she only wanted to reach Sasuke. Her talk with Ko had assured her last night that she was free to do as she liked...and yet still, she felt stifled after coming home in such a circumstance, as if she would be forced back into her room if she were caught wandering in such a state. It was during times like those that she actually _appreciated_ her father's lack of attention. Above all else, she wanted to be loved and cherished, but she also enjoyed certain freedoms that Hanabi didn't. Namely, the ability to run off and spend entire days with Sasuke Uchiha. If her father _cared_ , she would have been confined.

She made it to the door, slipped her sandals on and gave another wince. Even her toes were sore as the oval-shaped opening in the front of the rubberized shoe clamped them into place. She whimpered, but pursed her lips and tightened her jaw to hold it back. _Just a few more steps,_ she thought. _Then I'll be used to the pain._ She wanted to be able to walk without a limp by the time she made it to Sasuke, because she was already going to be in _enough_ trouble for her tardiness alone. She didn't want to seem _weak_ in front of him, in addition to lazy. He hadn't told her to take the day off, so she wasn't going to. She left the house, then further left the district, never crossing paths with anybody, though that wasn't by chance—she actively avoided them. Her hand went to the wide metal gate, hot to the touch as it was baked in the late-morning sun. She pulled it open with a shrill creak, swinging it just far enough to allow her body to fit through the gap, then closing it behind her. Upon laying her foot on the path outside her family's compound, she heard hear name called out with brash enthusiasm. The sound made her jump out of her skin and bolt upright with tension. "Hinata!"

"Kiba!" Hinata yelped with a little more fright than she wanted to convey. She was exceptionally startled; normally she would have sensed him, smelled him, heard him breathing...but her mind was addled. All her senses were dulled by aches and pains. "W-what are you doing here...?" she asked, blushing a bit after her startled cry. She looked away from him, turning her head and trying to appear bashful like always. The truth of it was that she was trying to conceal the swollen bruise along the underside of her chin.

"Just waiting for you, Hinata," Kiba announced as he hopped off of Akamaru's back. He had been parked just out of view from the gate, concealed against the bricks that walled off the whole district perimeter. The young man smirked, showing confident fangs and tilting his head to look at his teammate. "Haven't seen you in what feels like a really long time..." he held his tone steady for a moment, but he was perceptive. Despite Hinata's attempt to hide her pain and bumps, he had noticed some of the signs. "Whoa...what happened...?" His speech fell into a hushed whisper, and he took a step closer, eyes scanning in either direction as if the culprit were still nearby. "Who did that?"

Hinata almost told him, but she held it back for the sake of giving Sasuke some more time to work before the secret was 'out'. Kiba would be told when it was _time_ to tell people. Until then, she made an attempt at being vague. "I got into a fight," she said weakly, then contemplated how Kiba might take such an answer. "Erm, well...it was more like somebody wanted to test me," she danced around the wording. In a way, Shell _had_ been testing her.

Kiba furrowed his brow and puffed out his bottom lip. The sight of Hinata being in such a state was forcing his head to form thoughts that weren't really _complete_. He was always a reactionary sort. " _Sasuke_ hurt you, didn't he?" Kiba reached his hand out, believing that he was acting as the comforting friend, the wanted and soothing familiarity. He gave himself a lot of credit, and why not? He and Hinata had worked together for nearly a decade. They trusted one another, right?

Instead of accepting his approaching hand and the comforts it offered, Hinata took a step back and raised her face with a stern aggression. "No, it _wasn't_ Sasuke. Everybody who _sees_ me will think it was Sasuke, but he would _never_ hurt me..."

Kiba got defensive after that; he didn't like to hear Hinata talking that way about the _other man_. He didn't think of himself as jealous; no, it was more than that. Like he was protecting his little sister from an abusive relationship. He got self-righteous. "What, so you _have_ been hanging around with him? I thought I told you to be _careful_."

Hinata scowled. She didn't like Kiba's tone. Normally she would put up with it, but he wasn't just teasing her or nagging her about trivial things. Kiba was attacking Sasuke's honor, and Hinata was the only one around to defend it. Whether he needed defending or not, Hinata felt she _owed_ Sasuke at least that much. "Did you hear a _word I said_ , _Kiba_?" It was hard for her to keep such an intense glare on her face, but she went through the struggle for the sake of keeping her point clear. " _Sasuke didn't do this to me_." She was losing her calm; her breath was speeding up. Kiba wasn't budging.

"Look, it's okay to talk to _me_ about it, Hinata..." Kiba was getting annoyed, too, but he was still trying to play the part of a concerned older brother. He thought she was lying to protect him. "I won't tell him that you told me...I know he's... _scary_...but he won't hurt you anymore if you just tell me what happened. I'll be sure to let Naruto know for you, too."

Hinata nearly broke a tooth for how hard her jaws came together to grind out her frustration. Kiba had always been stubborn, but she had never before felt so determined to _clash_ with his stubbornness. She finally knew what Kurenai had gone through whenever she felt the need to give Kiba a strict corrective lesson. Hinata wanted to scream, but she kept herself as quiet as a hummingbird's wings when she spoke again. She didn't let her anger through. "Kiba...I know you think you're protecting me, but I don't _need_ your help this time." She thought back to their growing years—Kiba had saved her life a dozen times or more, but she had also saved _his_ life just as much. Missions were dangerous, but she, Shino, and Kiba had always watched one another's backs. It was just their _way_ , and she couldn't fault Kiba for doing what he had always done. Ultimately, he didn't deserve her anger—he deserved education. "Please, just listen to me this time...hear every word I say." She looked him in the eyes, and his snarl slowly dissipated. He folded his stubborn arms but he kept his attention on her. He was finally listening. Hinata spoke clearly, one word at a time: "Sasuke had nothing to do with my bruises."

Kiba heard those words, but they didn't stick as hard as they should have. He was too wrapped up in his own grudge. "Then what happened? First you said it was a fight, then you said it was a _test_...now all you can say is that it wasn't Sasuke's fault. So what's the _real_ story?"

Hinata looked to the sun up above. It was noon. She was officially late. She turned her head down to Kiba and sighed, closing her lids and breathing in through her nose. "Can you promise to keep a secret?"

Kiba made a _tch_ , turning his head away. Akamaru did the same gesture from his seat behind his master. The answer was suitably bullheaded: "Not if it's a secret about Sasuke." Jealousy was living there, but Hinata didn't recognize it.

Hinata kept her eyes closed, envisioning the things Shell did. He hurt her, and Sasuke saved her. In those memories, she heard the attacker say something about taking her someplace else...so his goal _wasn't_ to kill her. What, then? Ransom? Brainwashing? She didn't know, and it wasn't the right time to wrap her head around it. Sasuke could handle that part. She only focused on Kiba, for the moment, since despite his obnoxious accusations, he _did_ deserve an explanation. "It's not _about_ Sasuke, exactly, but he is the one who wants it kept secret...it's about the person who hurt me."

Kiba narrowed his eyes. "Wait, so you mean he really _didn't_ hurt you?"

Rather than give an exasperated sigh, Hinata remained patient with her ally. "No. He didn't." She cleared her throat. "But I want you to promise me that you won't go around telling people about this. It's sensitive."

Kiba gave a nod; again, Akamaru mirrored the gesture and gave a quick bark. The dog was pledging to keep the secret, too. "Fine, fine...I won't tell anybody, I promise. Now tell me what this is all about, will ya?"

Satisfied by his promise, the truth came out with subdued reluctance: "I was lured into an ambush by a member of Konoha last night..." Hinata kept her voice quiet, leaning in toward Kiba's ear and reducing to a whisper, her hand cupping her lips to prevent them from being read from a distance. "One of Lord Sixth's bodyguards..."

Kiba jolted back, and he almost shouted her words in repetition to verify his incredulity, but he clapped his hand over his own mouth just in time to hold in his gasp. After it sank in and he took his hand down, he leaned in to whisper the same way she had. Hushed and hurried. "Wait, you mean like Sai or something?" His eyes were wide with disbelief. Akamaru leaned his massive head into the two-person huddle as well, mimicking his partner for lack of anything better to do.

Hinata shook her head. "Not Sai...it was one of the others. I'd rather not say his name, though...because I don't know _why_ I was attacked. If you know too much, _you_ might be targeted, too..." Birds chirped overhead, oblivious to the boiling, _bad_ feelings in the village. Hinata had a feeling that the robins and bluebirds would chirp no matter _who_ had been hurt or killed the night before. As beautiful as nature could be, it was sometimes oblivious to the plights that surrounded it. Or rather, humans allowed themselves to feel too important in the scheme of things, and nature had a way of making them humble again by ignoring their presence. "Kiba, you can't tell _anybody_ what happened. Sasuke is going to handle it..."

Kiba scoffed. "I wouldn't trust Sasuke to handle a bag full of Akamaru's droppings," he belligerently murmured. "You need to tell Kurenai-sensei...and Shino. And the Hokage, most of all."

Hinata shook her head. "Like I said...Sasuke will handle it. You may not trust him, but _I_ do..."

Again, jealousy kicked in. "Yeah, you keep saying that, but how _can_ you trust him? He's a traitor. He tried to kill Naruto, Sakura, and Lord Sixth just before the war...and he actually _did_ kill the interim Hokage back then, too... _remember_?" Kiba was stern. He had a point to make.

Hinata couldn't possibly forget. She reluctantly admitted to it. "Y-yeah...I remember..." She clutched her upper arm and felt a fresh sting overcoming her numbness. "But he's not going to do something like that again..."

Definitely not convinced. "How can you even _say_ something like that? I get that you think he's changed, but we never saw it coming when he left the village as a kid...He suddenly lost his mind. He even put Naruto in the hospital, that time. Neji, Shikamaru, Choji, _me_...we _all_ could've died out there for Sasuke's sake. He never even said thanks...when I brought it up to him, all he said was that he never _told_ us to save him. He acted like it was _our_ problem that we got hurt...like it was our own damn fault that we _cared about him!_ " Kiba threw his hand out to the side in anger, recalling the rage he felt upon hearing those words.

Hinata slumped a bit, her shoulders losing their ferocity. No matter how she felt about Sasuke, nor how _he_ felt about _her_ , the Uchiha was still cold and completely disconnected from the others. It was like he ignored his own desire to belong. Hinata could see it the night before; there was sorrow on his face upon being left behind. Sasuke _wanted_ to be accepted, yet his pride, or his guilt, or maybe some other emotion prevented him from putting himself out there and humbling himself for the sake of making amends. "I-if you want him to thank you, or apologize for what he did...I can talk to him about it. Maybe he'd listen to me..."

"I doubt that; he doesn't like listening to _anyone_. Every time I've tried talking to him, he's given me a really empty _look_...it's like he can't wait for me to shut up and move along. Like I'm in his way, or something..." Kiba growled a little, the corner of his lip pulled up to show a filed fang. "Anyway, don't bother. I'd rather not have anything to do with him until I kick his ass in the tournament."

Hinata blinked. If he was planning to fight Sasuke, then... "Y-you're entering the Exceptional Tier?" She knew she should probably have advised against it, but she had a feeling that Shino had already done so. Instead, she defaulted to her usual, encouraging self after a moment of gathering her thoughts: "I'm sure you'll do very well, Kiba. I'll be rooting for you in the stands." She smiled and gave a nod, respectful and kind with her hands folded together against her abdomen. She would be there to cheer, then be there for him when he inevitably got beaten by almost _any_ of the contenders in that tier. She had her doubts that he would run into Sasuke in combat at all. In fact, she hoped he wouldn't. "But enough about all that...you were here waiting for me? Did you need something?"

Brown hair bobbed as the wild youth nodded his head. "That's right, I was waiting...and there _is_ something important I have to say, but I just wanted to talk to you for a while. It's like you've been avoiding me; Shino thinks the same thing, and so does Kurenai. People are worrying; you're starting to act like you don't want anything to _do_ with us anymore. Mirai's grown a lot in the last month, you know. She'd probably like to see you, too."

Hinata bit her lower lip. She hadn't thought about how little time she had spent with her team. They should probably have trained together, the three of them and Kurenai, like old times. She had originally planned to suggest exactly that, but a pull in her subconscious had told her to ask Sasuke instead. Sasuke had a way of dominating all of her thoughts ever since the night he returned, and while she didn't regret thinking about him, she wondered if it was healthy to feel so _devoted_. It was more than just her own will that kept her in his presence. Aside from how good she felt to be near him, she also somehow felt responsible for his well being. She knew that she was the only person whom Sasuke was willing to spend any _real_ time with in Konoha. Naruto and Sakura, his old teammates, had become sources of his discomfort. The Sixth Hokage, his former teacher, was far too busy as well. All of the others either ignored him, or cast him away. It came down to Hinata—and perhaps Hanabi, but _her_ time was limited too—to keep him company and make sure that he didn't feel totally isolated.

Kiba raised a brow as Hinata's thoughts kept her silent. "Something the matter, Hinata?" He waved his hand slowly in front of her face, as if legitimately concerned that some head injury had sent her into a trance.

She blinked and quickly shook her head. "N-no, sorry...I was just thinking about something."

"Sasuke?" Kiba asked grumpily.

"Yes," she admitted softly. "He's lonely here, Kiba. He feels like he doesn't belong, no matter what Naruto, Sakura, Lord Sixth, and I _all_ tell him."

Frustration was on the Inuzuka's face again. "He feels that way because a lot of us _don't_ want him here...I don't know what you or Naruto see in that guy, Hinata, but I don't trust him like you do."

Hinata sighed, feeling defeated. "I know. And you might be right. Maybe he hasn't changed as much as I think he has, but...he deserves a chance, doesn't he?"

Kiba relented somewhat, losing some of the hardness in his shoulders and letting his arms fall away from their lock on his chest. "A second chance is a _lot_ to give to a guy like him. If he blows it, he's gonna do it in a big way...Naruto will be able to stop him, I'm sure of it, but who knows how much damage he'll cause first?" Kiba sighed, rubbing a hand through his messy, shedding hair. "I'm not an _idiot_ ; I know that Sasuke, with his full strength, could tear this village apart without _trying_. The only reason I even _want_ to fight him in this tournament is because he won't be _allowed_ to use his full power...this is the last chance I'm ever gonna have of proving myself against him."

Hinata hesitated to speak, looking at the sincerity on Kiba's face and finding warmth there. He had a lot of hatred and resentment for Sasuke, but it didn't infect him like a disease. He knew how to isolate it, keep it where it belonged. He didn't resent Hinata for defending Sasuke, after all, though it was clearly a point of disagreement between them. "Kiba...are you _sure_ you want to fight him?"

Kiba nodded. "Absolutely sure. I want to face _him_ even more than I want to face Naruto. I had my chance against _that_ knucklehead in the Chunin Exams; I blew it then, I doubt I'd do any better now...but Sasuke? I've never clashed with him before. It's one of the things I've been dying to do since we all entered the Academy together. You know what I mean? He's the final regret I've got from those days—the fact that I never got to _fight_ him, that is. I just want to prove to him that he's not as cool as he thinks he is. That he's not _better_ than me."

Hinata smiled softly. That was Kiba; arrogant, but thoughtful. "You'll probably lose," she said with an impish smile, hardly containing a giggle. "But I'm still going to cheer."

Kiba smiled a bit bashfully as Hinata gave him that look of sweet reinforcement. "Yeah...I might lose, but my goal is to face him in that arena and give it everything I've got. Win or lose, I'm just gonna go for it. Me and Akamaru together? We can't back down from a challenge. Right, Akamaru?" Kiba looked over his shoulder and got a confirming bark and a wag of a swishy tail. Kiba's expression darkened again, though. The subject had been changed, but he hadn't forgotten it. "But...what you said about the Hokage's bodyguard..." He laid his hand on his canine's head, scratching behind the blackened ears. "It's got me worried...you're sure that's what happened?"

Hinata was happy to hear his confidence until the tone turned back to dour thoughts. After nodding slowly, somberly, she frowned. "I'm sure...but please don't worry about it. Focus on your training and let Sasuke do what he needs to do. He'll protect us, whether you have faith in him or not...because that's the way he is. He and Naruto have that much in common...they each do what _they_ think is right, regardless of who doubts them or interferes."

Kiba huffed. "I wouldn't say Sasuke is _anything_ like Naruto. I'd trust Naruto no matter what, because he's never steered me wrong and I doubt he ever will...I just don't get why he's so hung up on Sasuke, that's all." He shrugged. "I guess nobody's perfect."

"Sasuke's not how you think he is...he _does_ feel guilty for the things he did. It _hurts_ to see how much he regrets it..." Hinata clutched a hand to her chest, squeezing her thin, lilac-colored shirt against her heart. "He's sad, Kiba...very sad. I know that we've _all_ lost things to the world, but Sasuke...he took the losses harder than any of us. He's the very last of his clan...and the people of his homeland treat him like a monster." She pursed her lips. "I don't know for sure if he deserves to feel that way or not, but I won't be a part of it. He deserves to have _some_ kind of happiness."

Kiba sighed, irked by how wholeheartedly he was hearing his teammate defend a traitor. It kind of reminded him of Naruto, in fact, and that was starting to bug him. "Yeah, well, we can't _all_ be so naïve."

Hinata winced a little. "I'm really sorry if it seems like I've been avoiding you lately, Kiba...it's just that I've been training very hard for the tournament. Once my training's finished, I promise we'll make up some of the lost time, okay? You, me, Shino, Kurenai-sensei, and Mirai altogether." As she spoke, and as she _thought_ , the sun paid no mind to her tight schedule. It continued to move lazily across the sky, ticking the minutes by and symbolizing every moment of lateness that piled upon Hinata's shoulders. She was getting nervous; would Sasuke berate her for being late? Would he refuse to train her if she didn't take it seriously enough?

Kiba snapped her out of her worries with a grunt. "Well, the tournament's starting sooner than we expected, so you'd better work especially hard until then." He studied her outfit; it was like a yoga suit, black pants and a lilac top. It hugged her form pretty well, but it wasn't exactly skin-tight. It hung in a few places for modesty's sake.

Hinata blinked. "Sooner than expected...?"

A nod. "Yeah, the first match is going to happen in about a month, but that means the festival is only three weeks away...seems like the Sixth really wants to expedite this thing. He's got construction crews and planning committees working overtime; it was announced to the Jonin in a meeting today, and Kurenai-sensei filled me in about an hour ago. That's the important thing I meant to tell you, but actually I just wanted to check on you, since it's been so long."

"Three weeks? Will that give everyone enough time to prepare, and to travel here from other villages?" She thought over her question and then smiled with understanding. "What am I saying? Of course the Sixth has already considered that..."

Kiba nodded, still patting Akamaru and giving scratches with his clawed fingers. "Yeah, and if you ask me, I'm damn ready to get this competition rolling. It's been driving me nuts with all the waiting...I only hope it comes without a hitch." He smirked and winked at Hinata, giving a thumbs up. "I can't wait _forever_ to thrash Sasuke, after all."

Hinata rolled her eyes, but had her lids closed sweetly with a closed-lip smile so that it couldn't be seen. "I'm looking forward to it, as well. But, especially since it's coming so soon, I _really_ need to get to my training...I'm already late."

Kiba scrunched his nose, looking perturbed. "Yeah, yeah...go ahead, then." Then it dawned on him as he looked to the shut gate. Hinata was on the outside of it. "Wait...You're not training with your clan?" He tilted his head. "I figured that'd be the best choice for you; all those secret techniques, and such..."

Hinata was starting to walk, but she paused for two things: pain, and Kiba's question. After her wince, she answered him without lies. There was no point in covering it up. Not from Kiba, who would be able to find out if he really wanted to, anyway...just like her family, for that matter. She was kidding herself by trying to keep a secret in a village full of master intelligence gatherers. "A-actually...Sasuke's been the one training me...and that's why I've spent so much time with him."

Kiba looked relieved. As far as he was concerned, the fact that she was _training_ with Sasuke meant that her time with him was purely practical. Maybe she was just sticking up for her trainer the same way she'd stick up for Kurenai. "Oh...is that all? How in hell did you get him to do _that_?"

Hinata blushed, turned her toes inward to touch them together nervously, and pulled at her pinky with a gentle grip of her thumb and point. "Uh, well...I g-guess that _is_ it, yeah..." She wasn't necessarily lying, but she'd be remiss if she didn't admit to herself that she hoped for it to be made into an untruth retroactively. A temporary lie. "He's training me because I asked him to...rather, I approached him to ask, and he offered it before I _could_ ask. I think he just wanted a purpose...some reason to stay in Konoha." She fell into thoughts momentarily; that was the truth, but was that all she had been? An excuse to stay, a purpose? She felt like so very much more than that, now. She hummed to herself. "Anyway, he's a very strict teacher, and I'm already running late...so I'll catch up with you another time, Kiba." She started walking again, and she was limping on her bruised heel, but she was moving quickly without _seeming_ like she was trying to get away from him.

Kiba humphed. He didn't like that she was training with him, either. He didn't like anything about having Sasuke in the village, other than the fact that he was getting a chance to finally _confront_ the bastard. "Yeah, okay...but are you sure you should be training when you're hurt like that? You look pretty banged up."

Hinata gave a wave over her shoulder. "I'll be fine, but thank you for checking up on me." She kept going; Kiba didn't follow. He grumbled and hopped on Akamaru's back, and the two of them departed to give Hinata some space. She had three weeks until the festival, and a month until the tournament. Would that be enough time to become strong? With Sasuke's particular training methods, it may have been _more_ than enough. Perhaps... _too_ _much_?

* * *

Sasuke was seated upon a pillar within the ruins of the district. _His_ district. By village property laws, the Uchiha's land still belonged to him, despite the length and circumstances of his desertion. His right to _claim_ the land had been suspended during his time as a missing shinobi, of course, but his return and full pardon had reinstated his stake. And so he sat, legs crossed atop a white-and-gray pillar with the paint peeling and flaking from top to bottom, looking upon his domain. The pillar was slightly tilted left, a leaning tower big enough for one, and it raised him a little over ten feet into the air. He soaked in the sight of the rubble in the noon sun. And he did so in solitude and silence because his student had not yet arrived. In fact, after a certain point, he didn't expect her to show up at all, and that was okay. She had a long night. She had proven herself. He forgave her absence before she asked to _be_ forgiven.

Still, he _missed_ her. He wondered if she had been treated well when she was taken inside; if somebody had fluffed her pillow and tucked her into bed. Had she been offered a hot bath, tended to by a dozen young maidens with slender fingers and exotic soaps? Sasuke imagined the life that such a sweet, tender soul must have lived until then. She seemed untouched by the dangers and hardships of the world, but he _knew_ she had experienced loss. How could such a girl, in such a _world_ , remain so very pure? He had _seen_ the world, and it was ugly. He _felt_ ugly for being a part of its darkness for so long. He had once been _proud_ of his misdeeds. Had he _really_ laughed at the pain and sorrow of his former teammates? Pain was too weak of a word to describe what Sasuke felt; it was so strong of an emotion that he simply ignored it for lack of knowing how to reconcile it. The regret had become a _part_ of him.

Though he had already resigned himself to spending the day alone, it wasn't much longer before Hinata's blue-tinted crown of hair came over the horizon, peeking through the debris with a bit of frizz and slant; she looked rough around the edges, but she was alone, and she had walked all the way from home. Though she was adjusted to the pain of her heel enough that she thought she wasn't limping, Sasuke could see through the ruse, noting an imperceptibly-small irregularity in the pace of her steps. He slowly rose, standing against the very tip of the pillar with his hand on the hilt of his sword. He looked down upon Hinata as she drifted into their training field absent-mindedly, as if she had turned into a zombie of sorts. She was moving to her destination without hesitation, but also without consciousness. "Hinata...you're _late,_ " he called down to her, seeking her attention.

Though the haze in her eyes would have given the impression that her response would have been slow, she quickly snapped her attention to the familiar voice and grinned apologetically. "Y-yes, I'm late...I'm so very sorry, I slept much longer than I planned." Despite her condition, she sounded the same as she usually did.

Sasuke smirked; she was adorable, really. Apologizing for being hurt, for resting her weary body. Though, she wasn't supposed to be apologizing so much anymore...he decided to let it go that time, since she was so addled. "I didn't expect you to come at _all_ ," he elaborated, stepping down with a casual drop to land on his right foot beside the base of the pillar. "In fact, you've taken me by surprise...you've recovered much more quickly than I anticipated."

Hinata could feel the burden of his praise. She was being assessed; calculated upon. He was examining her worth as a soldier, not as a companion, but still she felt pleased to hear good things nonetheless. "I wasn't hurt as badly as it seemed," she mumbled, sucking air through her teeth as she tried to avoid visibly wincing. "I'm in good enough shape to train today." She smiled, though the bruise along her chin caused her a dull ache while she did.

Sasuke saw right through her. He shut his eyes and flicked the gap between his sword and its sheathe, coaxing the shimmering metal to appear in the sunlight. "Very well." He drew his blade and, as always, rushed his student with speed and aggression that she was trained to overcome. Hinata saw the attack coming; she could _perceive_ it, but she couldn't move in time to dodge it like she usually could. As the sword hissed, she tried to step away, but what should have slipped past her face instead struck her cheek with its cold, blunted back. She wasn't hit hard, but the cool touch felt like an earnest blow to the face, and she reeled away from it.

Hinata stammered, instantly trying to cover up her sluggishness. "I-I don't know what happened, I must still be waking up..." she tried to ignore her injuries, and further disregarded her poor mental health. She wasn't hallucinating, per se, but she was imagining things internally that weren't good for her. Open mouths, writhing shadows like pits full of rats and sludge. Dark, grimy things that represented Shell and others like him. "T-try again," Hinata urged after clearing her throat.

Sasuke gave a nod, then pulled the blunt edge of his sword back to a ready position. A second time, he gave a predictable swing—Hinata actually came close to ducking it, but the steel collided with the side of her head with enough suddenness to make a light thumping sound. She winced and pulled her hand up to nurse the bump that was there, riding on the side of her skull, just beneath the skin. It had been there from the start, evidence of her rough night. As she fell to her knees and whimpered, Sasuke pulled his sword back into its sheathe. "Forget it, Hinata. Today isn't a good day for more training. You're in no shape to learn anything new about combat, whether it's mental _or_ physical."

Hinata felt like she was being rejected—cast aside due to her lame leg and wobbly sense of balance. She tried to stand, but the walk from home had put a strain on her tender legs. She couldn't straighten her knees as quickly as she attempted to, so she toppled onto her backside and huffed with her thighs and heels clamped together, her hands propping her up behind her back. She looked up at Sasuke, all but pleading him to reconsider. "B-but there must be _something_ you can teach me, still."

Sasuke huffed and shook his head with disapproval. It was all an act, though; without a doubt, he had become a slave to making that young woman smile. The way he saw it, the deeper he made the frown, the more refreshing it was when it turned into relieved delight with twinkling eyes, accompanied by that sweet little gasp of happiness that came with her swift changes in mood. The addiction must have taken root from the very _first_ time she smiled at him, and from there it had become a crucial part of his daily planning. "There's no helping it...we'll have to take the day off so that you can rest."

Hinata viewed it as a punishment; she was being sent home, cast out of his sight. "O-okay...I didn't mean to disturb you, Sasuke." She began to crawl backward until her hand found remnants of a wall, which she grabbed to lift herself from the ground. On shaking feet, she found her balance. "I'll just come back tomorrow..."

Sasuke raised his brow as if she had said something strange. He could tell that she was disappointed, but he had no intentions of letting her go that easily. "Come _back_...? Are you planning to go somewhere?"

Hinata stumbled over her words a bit. "Well, you said we wouldn't train, so...I was going to go home and leave you alone...I know how much you like being by yourself, so you can think about things..."

The tall, sleekly-built man opened his eyes, and he looked upon Hinata with melting sincerity. "Hinata...do you really think that I want you to leave?"

She trembled. He was looking at her in a way that came directly from a dream, but the pain in her temple told her that she was indeed awake and alive. She gulped, blushing ferociously in the most predictable of ways. She pinned her swelling tongue to the bottom of her mouth so that it wouldn't get in the way of her reply...her clever, confident reply: "W-what?"

Sasuke's mouth turned from a flat line to a soft curve, his cheeks squeezing out a bit as he smiled genuinely. "I asked you, Hinata...whether or not you think that I want you to leave." He took a step toward her, always one to use his intimidating presence as a tool, whether for combat or for teasing.

Hinata was on her feet, but she wasn't steady. Watching Sasuke come a little closer was making her head spin. While it was true that she hadn't been given a chance to properly recover, this spinning was different—a swimming sensation brought on entirely by a rush of blood flow. She could have passed out, were she not so resilient. She looked at him through half-closed lids, doing her best to avoid staring at him like a mouse might look at cheese. "I...I don't _know_ if you want me to stay, or if you don't...you never really _say_ what you want."

"Last night," Sasuke uttered, keeping his breath low. "Something happened between us. Do you remember?"

How could she not? She had dreamed about it for hours until the migraine set in while she slept and forced nightmarish creatures into her thoughts. She nodded slowly. "I remember something special that happened...but a _lot_ of things happened last night. I'm still sorting out what's true and what I imagined."

He nodded; fair enough. "When I was angry...were you afraid of me?" Sasuke wanted to hear her answer in the daylight.

"Y-yes," she admitted quickly. "Just for a second, I was scared of what you were doing...of what it might have _meant_."

" _Why_ were you scared?" He needed to know. "Did you think that I would hurt you?"

"No, that's not it..." She hugged her arms along her chest, squeezing herself as if to gain some comfort and reassurance. "I was afraid that you wouldn't come back..."

"Come back?" He paused, shedding some assertiveness as he pondered what she meant in stillness. His smile turned neutral; he didn't expect that reply. He had actually believed that she feared him for her _own_ sake; a survival instinct.

She looked at him...and it was a look that rivaled his own. Concerned, allured. She cared about him. "Anger is a prison...and I thought you might have trapped yourself in it..." Hinata shook her head, restating her position on the matter. "No, I didn't think you'd hurt me, but I was worried that you would become somebody you didn't _want_ to be...and if that happened, if the _real_ _you_ didn't come back out, it would have been my fault." She watched him, but Sasuke was stoic. Unmoved by the words she spoke. "I saw that you had become a demon before my eyes, Sasuke...and I was afraid. But you _did_ come back. You _weren't_ lost..." She smiled in stages, first a trembling, hesitant curl, then her mouth split and her teeth showed. "I was so happy to see you again that I...I wanted to kiss you." Her lower lip was sucked in, and nibbled. "And...you know, I suppose I _did_ kiss you..."

Sasuke _looked_ unmoved, but he was feeling every word like a drop of cold water on a fresh burn. Soothing, but intense. A different kind of torture altogether. When he spoke, though, none of that turmoil came forth. "Do you regret that you did?"

Hinata shook her head assertively. "No; I regret plenty about last night, but not _that_." A question managed to force its way out of her before she could cut it off. "Sasuke, what did it _mean_ to you? Was it just a kiss, or...?" She trailed off, all the while hoping that she had managed to say enough...because her nerves had run out. She was surprised with herself; shocked that she had managed to ask even _that_ much. That man there was Sasuke Uchiha. _That_ man was the one who consoled her when she felt like she had lost _everything_ in the wake of Naruto's marriage. He dried her tears, helped her to become stronger, and saved her life in ways both literal and figurative. He was also the very first man she had kissed with such sincere intent.

"I don't know if there's such a thing as _just_ a kiss, Hinata..." He wasn't sure of his answer. Sasuke was in unfamiliar territory again, and while he wasn't _comfortable_ , he didn't exactly hate the feeling. It was okay to be a little bit awkward, he knew, because the person he was talking to was Hinata...it wasn't somebody who would _judge_ him, or think of his vulnerabilities as ' _weaknesses_.' When it was _her_ , he didn't feel idolized—well, perhaps she was a _bit_ reverent toward him, but it felt like respect, not worship. Definitely not the same way it had been with Sakura and Ino when they were kids. Nothing that came from Hinata felt forced or falsified. She didn't like him because he was 'cool,' or because he was 'powerful.' She seemed to like him because he was 'him.' Maybe that was all it took, in the end. He didn't know what to say, and that was often the point of their typical discussions where he would revert to training rounds in order to conceal his uncertainty, but that wasn't much of an option on that day. He had given her a day off, but he hadn't actually planned out what to say. He knew only one thing for sure: he didn't want her to leave.

"So if it wasn't 'just' a kiss," Hinata started, feeling oddly empowered by the way Sasuke didn't have a full answer on command. Had she stumped him? Was there finally a field in which they were a genuinely even match? "Then do you know what it actually was?"

Sasuke hummed, then swallowed. "It was what it _was_ , Hinata...We don't need to explain it to each other. What I felt, and what _you_ felt...that's what it meant. Nothing more, nothing less."

Hinata laughed in a small puff, a single breath to fill the air with her slender voice. Her smile was a powerful thing, and she gave it to Sasuke with the full intention of letting him enjoy it. She often doubted herself, but not while Sasuke was looking at her. In the night, as she would sometimes lie awake in bed, she would question the way he looked at her, the way his voice fluctuated and paused when he was talking to her...she always determined that she was only _imagining_ that he was admiring her. But none of those doubts could ever exist in the moment; in the _moment_ , she knew exactly how he felt. Sasuke encouraged her in ways that not even _Naruto_ ever had. When it came to her blonde-headed childhood crush, his _words_ made her feel better, and his brightness was inspiring...but when it was Sasuke, his very _soul_ seemed to reach out and lift her into a carefree mindset, often in _spite_ of how he looked or sounded. It was a sharp contrast to who he really was; a sorrowful, vengeful, genuinely _troubled_ man. He was all of those things and more, but deep within him, locked under the layers upon layers of mistakes and self-doubt, he knew how to be human. He knew how to make Hinata feel good without actually saying anything. And when he _did_ speak nicely to her? Oh, how his words affected her in the most delectable of ways.

Silence had lingered between them. Hinata was smiling at Sasuke as she thought of the person he was, of the things he had done for her. And Sasuke was smiling at Hinata, because her smile was infectious. He felt the pain and pressure of his life slowly seeping away as long as she was there with him. Even when she was nowhere to be found, she interrupted his thoughts mid-sentence, gave him dreams that distracted him from very real problems. And he was so very thankful for those interruptions. She was a burden, but a pleasant one. He always thought himself to be a single-minded type of person; one who didn't need companionship. In fact, even his 'love' for Sakura had been almost utilitarian in nature. She was beautiful, of course...but the important factor was that she had been willing to be his. In light of the genuine feelings he began to recognize for Hinata, he realized that Sakura had simply been a _tool_ in his mind...a means by which to continue his clan's legacy. A woman to marry who would make a strong mother and devoted wife. He hadn't been looking for a _partner_ —he had been looking for a 'mate.' He respected Sakura, absolutely, but the feelings he had for her in the past...? They were not remotely the same as the way he felt in that present moment, awash with Hinata's poignant gaze and glimmering smile.

"It was what it was," Hinata finally said to break the long silence, repeating Sasuke's echoed sentiment. "And it was _nice_..." she added quietly, tucking hair behind her ear as she turned her head down, unable to sustain eye contact as she admitted even _slightly_ how much she enjoyed the kiss. Nice didn't even begin to describe it, but it was all she could bring herself to say. Rapturous, enchanting, _perfection_...all words that came to mind, but all too strong for her to feel 'safe' in saying. She felt secure beneath Sasuke's attention, yet she couldn't overcome the lack of straightforwardness that she had been born with.

"Yes," Sasuke said with a slow nod. "It was." A long pause. Sasuke gently dropped to sit down, leaning his back against the pillar he had dismounted several minutes before. He finally asked the question directly: "I don't want you to leave...so will you stay here with me for a while?"

Hinata's heart soared; its beating intensified. She clapped her hands together in front of her chest and nodded. "O-of course I will, Sasuke...I'd _love_ to stay." She looked around. Physically, she saw nothing but ruins...but deeper than that, buried away and hidden, she saw Sasuke's history. Those broken columns and splintered doorways; streets that had been overturned and buried, glass that had shattered and whose fragments had made the whole area hazardous to tread with bare feet. Utter destruction, but it wasn't _always_ that way. She had never been inside of the Uchiha District when it was still standing tall, but she could create a mental image based on the remains. It would have probably been lovely, populated with Sasuke's family and friends. She wondered if the Uchiha Clan ever sat and laughed together like her own family did. Were the Uchiha entirely different from the Hyuuga? Madara, Obito, and Sasuke all seemed more like her father, Hiashi, than herself, Ko, or her sister. But there were exceptions, too, right? She almost saw a little bit of that childish glee in Sasuke's grin—the grin that came when she agreed to stay. She liked it. His smile was more comforting than a thousand words. It wasn't fake or imagined. Sasuke was happy to hear that she wanted to stay, and in turn she was happy that she could _make him_ happy.

"Then have a seat, Hinata..." Sasuke gestured around him; though many of the rocks were jagged, there were numerous flat surfaces to be found as well. "And tell me how you'd like to spend the day."

"H-how I'd like to spend the day...?" Hinata blinked, put on the spot. She hadn't really thought of anything other than training, so of all the things she normally did, exactly none of them were coming to mind.

Sasuke nodded. "That's right. Tell me what you'd like to do."

He was giving her a choice. She had earned her rest after such a troublesome night, and she had also earned a bit of influence. Sasuke had been the one to guide most of their interactions from the very beginning, and he wanted to see what she would come up with when given the choice. Her answer was tame, surprisingly simple: "Can we just...talk?" She seemed embarrassed of her own answer, but it was what she really wanted. "Like we did before, when you took me to dinner, just the two of us. We've spent so much time together, but we haven't really _talked_."

Sasuke retreated, laying his back and head against the slanted pillar and pointing his eyes toward the blue sky. There were clouds, but not enough of them. His worries weren't welcome on a day like that, especially in the company of that person. "All this time, there hasn't been much to talk about," he muttered somewhat defensively.

Hinata huffed, not taking that answer as a final one. "There's a lot I want to know about you though, Sasuke. You say things that make me curious, but you never dwell on them long enough to explain."

Sasuke furrowed his brows slightly. "Things like what?"

Hinata took the shot: "Things about your brother...and your family. Your childhood, before everything was stolen away. You said you were happy, once...but you never gave me a real answer to my question."

"Which question?" He felt compelled to ask, but he knew _exactly_ which question.

Hinata gave him a look of determination as she shambled toward him, finally taking a seat on her knees with her hands atop her thighs. She was only two or three steps away from him, half-bathed in the just-past-noon shadow of the pillar, one eye in light and one in the dark. She repeated her question from weeks prior: "When's the last time you were truly, _honestly_ happy?"

Sasuke fell silent. He had set himself up for that, and it was too late to take it back. He could deny his memories again, but he didn't want to insult her like that. "If you really want to know, Hinata, then I'll tell you." He took a deep breath and squeezed his pants along the right thigh. Digging up the memories was going to hurt, but he ultimately wanted her to know. He wanted to tell that person _everything_...because she made it okay for him to feel the pain. She was special—he wasn't afraid to _hurt_ in front of her. He let it out: "The last time I was happy, I still had a family...I still had a _future_. Nothing had been stolen from me, yet."

"Stolen...you mean by your brother?" Hinata was whispering, trying not to upset him. She could feel a change in him as she asked, and as suspected, there seemed to be more to it than that.

Black hair swayed left and right as Sasuke shook his head. It fell down over one eye, and the other eye was closed. "No, not by Itachi." The right eye opened; the Sharingan glew brightly, even in comparison to the high sun. " _He_ was stolen, too...He became a man other than himself. It wasn't his _fault_ , Hinata." He sighed. Maybe it wasn't time for _that_ truth, yet. "It's complicated...for now, let me tell you about the wish I once had. Before I had a thirst for revenge, before I was forced to experience the _reality_ of this terrible world...I was on my brother's back, talking to him about trivial things. My worries were simple ones. Things like practicing my shuriken techniques, getting my father's attention, and getting my _homework_ done." He shuddered, and his hand squeezed his pant leg, crumpling the cloth tight beside his knee. "I didn't know what kind of loss I was going to face; I was ignorant to the monster I would become. I had an entirely _different_ dream, then."

Hinata felt her throat tightening and her eyes moistening. She could feel the agony in every word, even though Sasuke's tone remained mostly flat. Rather than focus on the negative things, she latched onto the single diamond in the rough, the one thing that might not have been lost forever: "What _was_ your dream, Sasuke? Tell me about the person you wanted to be—about the things you wanted to _achieve_."

Again, Sasuke was caught off guard. Nobody had asked him that question since the massacre. It was always 'What will you do now that everything has changed?' To the world, there was no way that he could go back to simply being Sasuke Uchiha. No, he was 'Sasuke Uchiha, the last of his kind.' He was feared and respected, admired and coveted. He felt like an asset, more than a person. After his clan was slaughtered, he was the only one left within Konoha who could awaken a _new_ pair of Sharingan. "My dream..." Sasuke began, careful about saying the words out loud. Until they were spoken, they were simply his own thoughts. Once they escaped his mouth and funneled into Hinata's ears, those words would forevermore _exist_. They would no longer be his, and his alone. "My dream was to be like my father, Fugaku. He worked with the Konoha Military Police Force...in fact, he was their chief. It was an organization run entirely by my clan, and he was the one in charge of it all. I wanted to work with him...and eventually, I wanted to replace him when he retired." There it was. Somebody knew. It had been a coincidence, purely, that Kakashi happened to offer him that exact position. Whether it was a distraction, some method of appeasement, or even an attempt to _corral_ him, he didn't know. Just like he didn't know if he even _wanted_ the job anymore. "But he didn't get to 'retire' at all, and I was never given the chance to work with him. I barely got to _know_ my father before I lost him forever."

Hinata pushed through the sorrow and questions and listened only to the important words: Sasuke wanted to be like his father. He wanted to be a part of the police force—he wanted to do _good things_ for the village. Just as she had known all along, Sasuke wasn't born to be a monster. The world around him had pushed him in that direction, and the push of an entire world against a developing child was never going to be counteracted by the encouraging words of a few friends. She sympathized with Sasuke, though she would never _truly_ understand his torment. "Sasuke...you dreamed of protecting the village as a police officer?" A smile broke through. "That's...that's amazing. I never knew you wanted to be like your father..."

"I've never told that to anyone outside my family." Sasuke choked back a shivering sigh, keeping his composure. Hinata had a way of inviting emotions out of him simply by being curious, but he constantly fought to keep them down. "But you asked, so I answered." He waved his hand as if to dismiss the entire notion. "It's all history, Hinata; an old dream. Dreams only last until we wake up, and I was forced awake a long time ago."

"If that's true, then...you must be very tired." Hinata somberly observed him. No matter how powerful he was, no matter how many people viewed him as being a god, he was still human. Somewhere inside of him was the little boy who never got to realize his innocent ambitions, and the thought made Hinata's chest ache.

"I _am_ tired." Sasuke sighed, exasperated. "Tired of conflict, tired of killing...What's so difficult about peace, Hinata?" He gave her a steely gaze, his left eye still blocked by locks of hair but the right one glowing red. "Why do men like Danzo exist? Those like Madara, or Gato, or even the person who pulls Shell's strings...? What _flaw of existence_ allows these people to come into being?"

"Humanity, I suppose," Hinata said impulsively. "We're always making choices, and when we make choices, we _might_ be making mistakes... _everybody_ makes mistakes." She ran a fingertip along her thigh, tracing a little pattern along a thumping bruise just beneath her leggings. "Some are worse than others, but they're not always permanent."

"It feels like some people _only_ make mistakes. Danzo Shimura made a _lot_ of permanent mistakes." Sasuke took a labored breath in through his nose. Old rage was rising up, but it wasn't enough to overcome him.

"Is that why you killed him?" Hinata asked, not knowing if it was the right time or place, but curiosity drove her.

Sasuke scoffed. "As if killing him made any difference either way. Some people naively see death as the final solution to a problem—kill a man, and you'll never worry about him again. If only that were true. Danzo has been dead for years, yet his rotting legacy continues to devour this village's foundations like a pack of undying termites." He looked to his own hand; the thick fabric of his pants was starting to stretch and warp against his fingers; he had been clutching it harder than he realized. "I knew I couldn't stop his evils from continuing; a man that powerful, with that many _years_ behind him, is going to be a lot more stubborn than his heart and lungs. His body is long buried, but his _will_ continues on to this day."

"Then why did you do it, Sasuke? Why would you kill the Hokage if you knew it wouldn't _change_ anything?" Hinata felt strange even letting those words be spoken. Asking Sasuke _why_ he killed a person, as if the answer mattered. As if it changed the deed. He had killed people, and whether they deserved it or not, he felt tremendous guilt. She knew she couldn't change what he had done; she only wanted to _understand_.

"I did it for revenge. That's the _only_ reason. I wasn't looking to change the world, nor to protect anyone. It was selfishness. I killed Danzo Shimura because I wanted to see him die." That was all he could think to say about it, and he stopped talking.

Hinata was quiet, too. She couldn't picture Sasuke as the type of person who would kill purely for the pleasure of killing, yet she had admittedly only seen the shortest possible glimpse of his rage. Even then, she feared that he might have been lost, but she had almost forgotten that he _was_ lost for many years. To exist for such a long time, possessed constantly by the kind of rage she had seen the night before...she was glad that he managed to survive his own fury. The silence was broken by the chirp of a bird, a blue-feathered animal shaped like a small potato. It landed upon the rubble and pecked its black beak against dusty old ruins. It found no worms, no morsels; as its quest came to an abrupt and fruitless end, it spread its wings and flew away.

Hinata watched it go. She allowed herself to smile and change the subject. "Do you like birds, Sasuke?"

"I don't think much about birds," he said dryly. He was in a sour mood. The conversation had forced him to recall his misdeeds. Though he was glad to have explained himself to Hinata, to have given her an _honest_ answer about his old, vengeful self, it was still a painful scar. But it was alright; he had gotten that leg of the 'journey' over with, like ripping a bandage off in one sharp yank. He would never need to confess his thirst for revenge to Hinata again—she would always _know_. A part of him was soothed by that. She knew of his past, yet she still asked him about things as simple as birds. He regretted his short answer; he saw how she saddened just slightly when he refused to engage her. And so he closed his eyes, turned off his Sharingan, and gave her a plain black stare. "Though, I know a person who _loves_ birds. I used to travel with him, after we both left Orochimaru's 'care'. His name is Juugo."

There was the smile again, across her face from cheek to cheek. It seemed like the only thing he needed to do was _talk to her_ , and she would be happy. Was it really that easy? Hinata was interested in what he said. "Juugo? Where is he now?"

Sasuke shrugged. "Wherever Orochimaru is, I suppose. I haven't seen him—nor _any_ of that group—since the war ended."

"Oh...I think I remember, now. During the war, there were people who came to the battlefield a little while after you. Was Juugo one of them?"

"Yeah, he's the big one with the thick orange hair. The one with the filed teeth is Suigetsu, and Karin is...well, she speaks for herself. They were my comrades while I searched for Itachi, and during my crusade against Konoha." Bad memories, but good people. A fair balance. He didn't feel sorrowful while talking about them.

"Do you ever miss them?"

"Sometimes." Another short answer, but an honest one. Sasuke was glad to move the subject forward a bit. "I occasionally think about visiting them, but I've got nothing important to say."

Hinata hummed. "You don't always _need_ to have something important to say. Sometimes a visit is just a visit. People like it when old friends drop by to catch up..." She tapped her fingers together in her lap. "At least, _I_ like it when they do."

Sasuke smirked. "I haven't really thought of it that way. For me, a conversation feels like a waste of time if I'm not accomplishing something important."

"Friends _are_ important," Hinata corrected.

"Hmm, maybe you're right. I don't have many 'friends', though...Naruto is the only one, really. Sakura, too, but she's...different." He looked at Hinata, and she seemed to expect some kind of acknowledgment, blushing and trying to hide her anticipating gaze behind frayed bangs. "You, though...I don't know what to make of _you_ , Hinata."

She spoke easily, but quietly. "I'm your student, Sasuke. Or your friend, too, I think. Actually, maybe it goes past that?" She hinted, but she didn't know what she was hinting at. Just speaking her mind as it formed thoughts, whether it was a good idea to do so or not.

"Past friendship?" Uncharted territory. Sasuke braced himself at the shoulders, maintaining his masculine poise. "Let's not get carried away..."

Hinata nodded, swallowing the saliva that pooled atop her tongue. "You're right, let's not." But oh dear, how she _wanted_ to get carried away. Carried away in his arms, pulled close to him. She fantasized about laying her head in his lap, having him stroke her hair. She got goosebumps on a hot summer day as she thought about it. "But I can't stop thinking about what happened last night."

A blush on Sasuke's face—it was hidden slightly by the shade of the pillar, but not fully concealed from Hinata's deft eyesight. "You mean the attack?" Or so he hoped.

"N-no, not that...I mean what we talked about earlier." She couldn't muster enough courage to say it again. "The thing that...was what it was." Butterflies fluttered in her stomach again, joining the throbbing muscle pain to make her wholly uncomfortable where she sat on her knees, rump on her heels. "I guess I've just been wondering...I know it _was what it was_ , but...will it ever happen again?" A lot of intense things had happened that night, and she herself had gotten carried away with the joy of being alive and the gratitude of being saved; she kissed him because she was _compelled_ to do it. But no matter how much she thought of it, she couldn't find even the slightest glint of regret in her own mind. She wondered if Sasuke felt the same.

"That depends," Sasuke answered, sounding a bit more... _sheepish_ than normal. As if he had finally run out of certainty. Just as she didn't know how _he_ felt, he didn't know how much she yearned for the touch of his lips. It was like a standoff, one where neither one was willing to admit just how much they needed it from the other. Held at bay by their own insecurities and doubts. Sasuke called for an end to that lingering issue by being as straightforward as he could: "Do you _want_ it to happen again?"

Clever. He had turned the question back on her, made her be the one to decide. She wasn't willing to admit it, but she didn't want to _deny_ it, either. If she said 'no,' she might ruin her chances of ever feeling it again...but if she said yes, she worried that she might be rushing into things. She settled for a stutter, neither a yes or no, and a shrug of her shoulders. Her fingers busily started to brush through her hair, finally straightening it out, though without a proper brushing it was never going to be perfect.

Sasuke read her answer loud and clear. Wordless, noncommittal, but completely obvious even so. She _did_ want it again, but something was holding her back from saying so. "Well..." Sasuke said after accepting Hinata's mumbles as a proper reply, "I suppose whatever happens will happen."

Hinata nodded quickly, relieved that the moment had passed without problems. "R-right! There's no need to rush ourselves into a decision like that...we've got plenty of time." At least, she _wanted_ to believe that. The incident last night had gotten her wondering—how long would life remain normal? Could a few belligerent rebels actually cause lasting damage to Konoha? Surely Naruto and Sasuke would be able to stop _any_ threat that was foolish enough to show its face in the village...but what about the threats that _didn't_ show their faces? She saw the sun above; it was well past noon, now. Nearer to one o'clock. And she realized that she hadn't eaten breakfast in her hurry to escape. "Sasuke?"

"Hmm?" came the smooth hum of acknowledgment.

"Have you got anything to eat?" She put a flat hand on her smooth tummy, feeling the emptiness within. Her mentor usually had a stash of jerky, at least, so she figured it was a safe question to ask. "I forgot breakfast this morning."

Sasuke smirked with amusement, reaching around his hip to located his sealed pack. He popped the button, fished into the pouch, and pulled out a small box. "Sure, help yourself." He tossed it her way, and she caught it. Upon pulling it open, she reached inside and plucked out a strip of dried meat that looked particularly tender. After biting into it with little fangs, she chewed it down and gave a soft sigh of appreciation.

"Thanks," she exhaled between bites, feeding her exhausted body with compact protein one bite at a time. "I _mean_ it," she reiterated. "I don't think I'll ever be able to tell you how grateful I am to you."

Sasuke closed his eyes, listening to Hinata take small bites. The sound was soothing in its own way. She lived; she hungered. She had survived the night. Having faced the fear of losing her, everything that confirmed her continued existence was like _art_. Even the sound of polite chewing had a musicality to it. "Don't rush your gratitude...as you said, we have plenty of time for things like that."

Hinata took another piece of jerky from the latching wooden rectangle, then she closed it and tossed it back to Sasuke. He took a strip for himself, biting a lot more aggressively than his student did. They ate together, hushed by their own chewing for several minutes. They shared the occasional glance. Even in silence, they constantly reminded one another how good it felt to be alive. To be home. _Together_.

* * *

 **I've been apologizing for my slower-than-usual pace a lot lately, so I'll keep up the trend: _Sorry!_ I was absolutely **_**blasted**_ **by college coursework last week, so I didn't get the chance to write what I** _ **wanted**_ **to write until Monday morning. I know some of you were getting worried, but rest easy: I'll never forget about this story. It's on my mind constantly, and so are all of you. This is the longest I've ever taken between chapters, and every day that passed, I felt a little more guilty, haha. I hate making you guys wait just as much as you hate waiting, so rest assured we're in agreement there! Hopefully I can make better time on the next one, but I can't promise anything. Just keep an eye out! Thanks for reading.**


	31. Replacement

**Enjoy!**

* * *

The jerky filled Hinata's grumbling stomach adequately, but the taste was bland. Sasuke didn't seem to care to marinate or season it, as most would—there was barely a pinch of salt for preservation's sake, and beyond that it tasted plainly like some kind of deer or elk, but she wasn't sure. It was made from a wild animal in _some_ capacity; that was all Hinata could guess. After chewing down another slightly-stringy piece and enjoying the long, peaceful silence, Hinata asked a question that felt relevant. "Did you hunt this meat yourself?"

Sasuke had been enjoying the silence, too. Maybe he wanted it to _stay_ silent, because he felt a lot more comfortable when his mouth wasn't flapping, spilling his secrets and inner-most thoughts without regret. Hinata, that starry-eyed, supportive companion, had not been turned away by his gradual confessions—not _yet_. He felt comfortable near her, and while talking to her, but there was always the lingering fear that the very next thing he happened to say would be the revelation that she wouldn't tolerate. Did she disapprove of hunting? Would she judge him if he had paid for it, conversely? What was the answer she wanted to hear? He slowed his chewing, putting real thought into the way his jaws flexed and relaxed. He was self-conscious yet again. "Yes, I caught and prepared it on my own," he hummed with his lips half-closed and teeth clenched. He swallowed his current bite and looked to the girl. Her dainty fingers were clutching a single piece with both hands. She nibbled, rather than chomped. She _appeared_ to be quite feeble and weak, yet Sasuke had seen her budding potential. She was a representation of perfect _balance_. Neither too hard, nor too soft. Not sour, yet not sickeningly sweet, either. Sasuke popped open his small box of dwindling meat strips and studied the contents, taking his eyes away from Hinata for fear of getting lost in her beautiful, slightly-disheveled visage again. "Since you mentioned it, my supply is actually running low. I used to hunt as I traveled through the countryside, but ever since I came back to Konoha I haven't found the time."

"Well, you've been very busy," Hinata concurred with a lump of meat at the corner of her mouth, out of sight but very slightly influencing her voice, giving it the faintest hint of muffling. "Training me, settling in, dealing with the people who want you gone...not to mention Shell and his friends. I'm not surprised that you haven't had any time to yourself."

Sasuke nodded, falling silent again. He had actually had _plenty_ of time to himself, regretfully. During those times, when he was alone with his thoughts and dreams, he felt like _nothing_ had changed over the years. Despite his great strides in seeking redemption and forgiveness, he was still very unsure of his path. Was he truly becoming a different version of _himself_ , or had he simply adhered to somebody _else's_ way of life? Was he at _peace_ with himself, or was he merely involved in another war between two sides; one that he was hoping his true self would _lose_? The man, or the demon; which one was the _real_ Sasuke Uchiha? He told himself what he wanted to hear—that he could become a decent person—but was it the truth? Time would tell, but he hoped at the start of each new day that it would finally be the sunrise to provide him with a straight answer.

"How does it taste, Hinata?" Sasuke inquired, once again shutting away his troubling thoughts, replacing them with simple questions. Pointless banter, as he might have called it in any other situation. "I could add more seasoning to the next batch, if you'd like that."

Hinata shook her head, finishing off another piece and licking the tips of her fingers to clear the semi-oily residue left behind. "No, I think this is perfect the way it is," she answered honestly. "It's very... _simple_. Refreshing." She pulled her legs out from under herself, laying them out to one side and leaning onto her elbow, halfway laying down with the rear of her body propped up against a short segment of wall behind her. The ruins could be comfortable if one knew them well enough. "My family tends to eat extravagantly, with rich sauces and tender, well-cut steaks. Our fruits and vegetables are always at the peak of freshness, and the chefs are... _wonderful_ , to say the least." She ran a hand along her hip and thigh, squeezing through her pants and soothing a few aching places along the contours of her muscles. "Even when I was out on missions with Kurenai-sensei, Kiba, and Shino, we always ate well. We're a team of tracking specialists, so locating food has always been easy. Berries, fish, large game—whatever we wanted, we could find. I have a lot of great memories from those days, but...it's surprisingly nice to eat something less refined, less _fresh_. Something that tastes different. _Real_."

Sasuke smirked. "So you're saying that you like it because it's poorly made?"

Hinata blushed and wiped the corner of her mouth with her thumb. "Would you be offended if I said yes?" She smiled a little. She was teasing him with her response.

"Only if you didn't mean it," Sasuke replied, watching her closely. Like a hawk, really.

She shrugged. "Maybe it'd be _better_ with some pepper, a dash of sweetness, or a little bit more moisture...but then it wouldn't be _yours_. This is what _you_ made, Sasuke," she held up a blackened, almost-crispy piece of meat with a lightly-trembling hand. "It says things about you as if you were saying it yourself. This meat is a statement that _you_ _made_ , whether you realized it at the time or not. Cooking is an _art,_ andthat means that it's self-expression...I'd rather have something you made in your _own_ way than something that tastes 'good' in somebody else's opinion."

Sasuke chuckled. So it _was_ bad. He had never personally _cared_ about what it tasted like, only that it fed him, but maybe that was Hinata's point—maybe he _was_ making a statement, after all. His student made the notion sound a lot more important than Sasuke ever thought it to be. "I don't know about all _that_ ," He said, closing his box shut after taking out the very last piece; he was going to need to gather more, soon. "The last person I met who talked a lot about art and expression ended up blowing himself to smithereens while trying to kill me. I think that may have soured me on the whole idea."

"Blowing himself up...?" Hinata's face squeezed in thought, then relaxed with realization, keeping her mood high, though the memory invoked unpleasant associations. "Oh, you mean that guy from the Akatsuki? Wasn't his name Deidara?" She canted her head.

Sasuke nodded. "That's the one. Not exactly a role model." He looked to his final piece of meat, wondering when he would have the time and motivation to find and prepare more. "Though, I'm no _better_ than him; just different. His obsession was with art, and mine was with revenge, but the important detail is that we were both men obsessed. Obsession is always dangerous, I think. It doesn't matter what it's attached to."

"Maybe," the Hyuuga girl agreed, recalling Shell's obsession with fulfilling his 'purpose.' She seemed a bit worried. Was _she_ obsessed with something? Obsessed with the man seated in the shade a few paces away from her, perhaps? "But we can _want_ or _enjoy_ things without being _obsessed_ with them, don't you think?"

"I think it's a question of 'how much?'" Sasuke thumbed the hilt of his sword after sticking the corner of his last morsel into his teeth, clamping it in place and talking through it. "If you want something _so badly_ that it feels like nothing else _matters_ , then I don't think it's healthy. For me on my worst days, every waking moment had the sky colored bloody red. I saw revenge painted on the walls, tasted it in the food I ate, and heard it in the voices and laughter of my comrades. All I wanted was to cause pain and death to the people I despised. When I finished with one person, I found another. If I had gotten my way, back then, I wonder if I _ever_ would have stopped...each time I thought I was satisfied, I discovered something new to _hate_. I was trapped in an endless cycle of vengeance and bloodshed. It took Naruto's idiotic optimism to break the chain and knock me off that path—so I owe him a lot, despite our differences."

Hinata nodded somberly. Naruto, again. Not that she could get him out of her head _before_ , but even after she had managed to at least _partially_ get over her depression, his name had a way of popping up and reminding her of her years of wasted devotion. She didn't actually know if the years were 'wasted' or not, but she _did_ know that she never got what she selfishly wanted out of the exchange. Her _obsession_ ; that's what Naruto was, and he had remained that way for over a decade at that. In the same way that Sasuke wanted revenge, Hinata wanted Naruto. Somehow, those entirely separate paths had converged to a point that found the pair debating the finer points of deer jerky—or whatever animal it was—under a hot afternoon sun. Considering the possible alternative outcomes, the one they got didn't seem bad at _all_. "We all owe Naruto _something_ , I think. But we owe _you_ , _too_ , Sasuke. People forget about that. Especially here, since the others are still bitter about how you..." She hung on her thought. She didn't want to say the word, but she knew it was the correct one to say. She winced as she forced her way through it. " _Betrayed_ _us_."

Sasuke had a sardonic smirk; his jerky was still hanging from his teeth, and he grabbed the bottom half of it to tear it away, tossing the remainder to Hinata. "Last piece; we can split it." He had no answer for what she said to him, and never made a move to give one. Instead of speaking, he felt his thoughts turn. He looked to his left arm—half of it, anyway. As Hinata blushed and chewed on the end of her meal, she looked at where Sasuke's attention had wandered and let her natural curiosity take it from there.

"Do you miss it, Sasuke?" She made sure that there was nothing obstructing her words; she was done chewing and had swallowed her last bite before she asked such a question. "Your arm, I mean."

He knew what she was talking about before she clarified. He clenched the invisible fingers of his lost limb and sighed. It hurt. For years, he had been feeling a sensation of phantom pain that he couldn't reduce. Despite its constant throb, he had gotten used to it; reclassified it. Rather than a medical condition, he viewed the hurting as a metaphor of sorts, some divine punishment for all his sins. He told himself that he felt the constant pain because he had _caused_ so much of it to others. He looked to Hinata and nodded his head, feeling the burden all over again. He missed it. "I don't think there's an honest person alive who _wouldn't_ miss a piece of himself if it were to be taken away."

Hinata met his stare and understood immediately what he meant. A piece of one's self. She had lost quite a few of those over the years, both big and small. Just one night earlier, she had lost her peace of mind all over again. That was the nature of the world they inhabited. "But it's not just about your arm, then...is it?" She turned herself upright again, resting on her knees rather than her side; her thighs had begun to fall asleep from the position mixed with the soreness, and she felt the feeling slowly creep back while she ran her hands along her legs nervously. "I know you've been offered a new one. Naruto and Sakura have both mentioned that you refused to wait for it before you left—but now that you're here again, couldn't you have it replaced?"

Sasuke sighed and allowed himself to go limp, leaning on the strong stone pillar at his back. His eyes closed in the darkened shade. "There are too many reasons for why I can't just _replace_ it..."

Hinata felt like she had entered sensitive territory; she thought about turning back, but she refused to back off. She soldiered onward, insisting on an answer. "Last night, though, you made a new one for yourself...why not keep it?"

An eye opened, the one on the right side. He looked at the girl as if she had said something crazy. "You said it yourself, Hinata...it's cold. Metal. That arm is a tool, nothing more. I refuse to accept it as a part of _me_."

"But it comes from your power, right? Isn't your _power_ a part of you?" She broke eye contact, regarding the rubble as her fingers brushed through the dust and paint chips that had bunched up in the cracks and crevices between fallen rocks. "I just...I want to see you _whole_ again, Sasuke. Is there any way I can help?" She was frowning, as she knew that his answer was going to be 'no.' But the question had to be asked before she would feel content.

 _It has nothing to do with you,_ Sasuke thought about saying. But he couldn't voice it. He had said those words to Sakura, once, and they had hurt her deeply. He didn't want to hurt Hinata in the same way. Besides that, he wasn't entirely sure that Hinata _didn't_ have anything to do with it. He saw hope in her eyes, in her hair, in her skin and fingernails, and her lips. He felt it there when he kissed her the night before. She was _made_ of hope, and it was _his_ hope. But despite how she made him feel, there was a part of him that had been damaged and taken away. No, not 'taken'. It was more like he had willingly _forfeited_ that part for the sake of an unworthy goal. Would it really be fair to get that piece back after what he had done to lose it? He felt guilty for even considering it; for letting himself get swept up in her presence for so long. "Hinata, you shouldn't think about these things," he said with growing concern.

"Why not?" She cooed. His tone had made her slightly discouraged, but not so much as to conceal her interest in his answer as she watched him.

Sasuke closed his eyes, and Hinata could see his jaw tighten a little. Something was cooking in his head; he wasn't looking at her, but she knew that he didn't have to be looking at her in order to 'see' her. "Do me a favor, Hinata, and stop asking questions about who I am..."

Hinata's brow furrowed and she let out a small _hmph_. She folded her arms across her chest with defiance. "If you don't want to answer, you don't have to..."

Sasuke huffed. "I can't _stop_ myself from answering, even though I hate doing it. You do something strange to me, Hinata; you make me forget the horrors of the truth even while I'm saying it out loud."

"The truth is the truth...saying it loud or keeping it quiet doesn't make the truth any _different_. Are you worried that I'll see you poorly after you tell me things?" She shook her head. "I know the difference between past and present. People can change." She nibbled the lower corner of her lip. "Neji changed..."

"I'm not _like_ Neji. Neji may have been arrogant and vindictive as a kid, but he didn't grow up to be what _I_ became. There's no forgiveness for a person like me." He immediately regretted saying it, though, because the girl seated across from him was frowning again. All the more reason for him to remain steady in his opinions.

"No," she admitted. "You're not like him, Sasuke, except that you're both people who matter to me." She was flexing her fingers in a silent rhythm, growing increasingly worried. Sasuke was getting agitated by her answers, and it didn't make any sense to her.

"Stop thinking about me, Hinata. Stop trying to figure me out. Nothing good will come of learning the things you want to know..." Sasuke was wiping his forehead and seemed bothered by something. "Who I was before it all, what I became then, even who I am now...there's _truth_ to be given, but none of it is _important_."

Hinata frowned. "But _I_ think it's important, Sasuke. I care about what happens to you. I care about what things you want; the person who you were, and _are._ I can't help but wonder about the way you live your life, past and present...I think about you _all the time_ , now."

Sasuke pursed his lips. He hated the look on her face when she worried about him, and despite his efforts he was only making the problem worse. His voice became firmer. "I don't like what it _does to you_ when you think about me, Hinata...I think I'd rather you didn't waste thoughts on me at all."

The frown deepened and Hinata started to lift a hand, reaching toward Sasuke but not moving any closer to him because of her uncertainty. She didn't know what he meant; she knew he 'liked it' when she thought of him. She had seen it in his eyes before—so what was he really trying to say? "I can't _stop_ , though. For a while, after we talked at the wedding, I tried to force you out of my head. I didn't want to trick myself into seeing you as some kind of temporary replacement for Naruto...but after we talked more and more, I started to feel something completely different. My thoughts about you started to fill a spot in my head that must have been _empty_ before that—because when I tried to take you out, and forced myself to think about other things, you fell right back into place. Nothing else could fit into the place you filled in my thoughts...That place belongs to you, and _only_ you...It might have been there all along, empty and just waiting for you to claim it."

Sasuke reached his hand up and clutched his hair. He wasn't angry, but he was frustrated, and it showed visibly as lines on his forehead. His voice snapped a bit, bitten off by his teeth at the end of each sentence: "Why do you think I _deserve_ your thoughts? This affection you have for me, Hinata...it's _bad_ for you. Can't you _see_ that?"

"Bad for me...?" Hinata gulped, worried about what he meant. Was he going to send her away? Had the kiss been a mistake? He must not have felt the way she _thought_ he did. Maybe she was annoying him, and he simply avoided saying so for the sake of politeness. "You've done nothing but make my life better since you came back...how could even _think_ that you're bad for me?" Her voice grew bigger, clearer. She meant what she said and she wasn't going to take it back, not even in the face of Sasuke's terrifying glare.

Sasuke coiled up inside like a snake. His stomach churned, his throat clenched, and his chest thumped with a quickened heartbeat. She wasn't making it easy on him. He came out and said it: "What I've done, the person I am and always will be...It makes you _frown_ , Hinata." It was barely a whisper, and his eyes closed when he spoke. "You wonder about me, about who I am, about what I've done, and how I think—and when I give you an answer, I see sadness. Worry. The things you _care about_ are things that take the smile off of your face." He took a shuddering breath and squeezed his fingers around one knee, trying to steady his trembling muscles. It was harder to admit than he thought it would be. No tears formed, but he felt like they could have. He hated to see her frown—it stung him physically whenever her smile faded before his eyes. "You're good for _me_ , Hinata, but I'm terrible for _you_. I'm hated by this village; a _monster and a traitor._ Your family thinks I've hurt you...your friends, too. The truth doesn't matter to them—I'm the _villain_ , remember? There's nothing that can be done to erase my mistakes; I'm a source of darkness that you'd be better off without...so _why_? Why can't you just _forget about me_ and go smile with your friends and family, live like you did before I ever came along? They would be happier...and so would you."

Hinata was stunned by the words, and by the manner in which they were spoken. It wasn't annoyance, or boredom, or dislike, or anger...it was guilt. _Pure_ guilt. All that time, Hinata had thought that _she_ was the one being 'tolerated'. She felt that she was given all the considerations, all the concessions, and all the favors in their relationship up until that point...and yet when she heard the way Sasuke spoke, she realized that he had been thinking the exact opposite. She realized the full extent at which he felt _blessed_ to be in her thoughts _at all_. She didn't know how to respond, so she swallowed and swallowed again; her throat was dry with confusion and shock. Her heart was beating so quickly that she lost track of it, as if it had vanished from her chest altogether and gone someplace else to recover. "Is that...is that what you really think?" She clutched her chest with one hand and clenched a fist above her thigh with the other. "That I'd be happier if I forgot about you?" Tears welled in her eyes; she wasn't as ashamed as Sasuke was of letting the watery pools form at the corners of her lids.

Sasuke grumbled, running his hair through his fingers and grabbing it in clumps. He didn't know what he was doing; it was a fumble of his own conscience, an outburst he had spoken but hadn't planned for. He had been walking into that corner all his life. He had made the mistakes, caused the pain, had the regrets—and then he ultimately met the girl who wanted to _face_ all of those things with him, one at a time. He had borne the burden of his heritage since the day he first drew breath, and he didn't wish that sorrow upon anybody else. In telling her his truths, his _secrets_ , he was lessening the weight on his own shoulders, but while relieving _himself_ he was adding more heaviness to Hinata's life. He didn't like to weigh her down, but he realized that he was stuck with that arrangement unless she left him at that _exact_ moment. If she stayed, he wasn't going to let her go. "There you go again," he murmured as he watched her eyes well up. "Crying because of me..." He sighed, losing his train of thought and taking a deep breath. "I blew my chance at a life of friends and fondness, Hinata—I don't want to see you dragged into the same pit just because you _care_. I dug this hole on my own, so let me suffer down here by myself." He looked at her, but she wasn't budging. "It's alright, Hinata. I'm comfortable when I'm alone in the dark...it's a familiar thing to me."

Hinata wasn't deterred. Hearing the words as they came from Sasuke's mouth had caused her sadness and pain, yet it wasn't _nearly_ enough to turn her away, because she knew where the words _came from_. Listening only to the verbal contents, it would seem as if he was trying to hurt her and force her to leave...yet Sasuke _wasn't_ earnestly trying to turn her away. He was putting himself out there; speaking his mind, voicing his concerns. He was only trying to spare her from the agony which he experienced every day. In his own way, he was trying to protect her from him...but he positively didn't _want_ her to leave. He only wanted to give her the chance to say _yes_ or _no_ to the concept. The lashing out was an erasure of doubts while simultaneously airing some very real feelings. "Sasuke, didn't you say that you would never hurt me...?" Hinata put a hand on the ground, then lurched forward to lay herself on her knees. She started to crawl on all fours, one hand and one knee moving together as she shuffled across the debris. She kept eye contact with him. Sasuke was backed against the pillar, thinking himself hidden in the shade, but she could see through him—for perhaps the first time since she met him, she could read him _perfectly_. Despite his words, despite his threatening gaze, she had no doubts at all: "Well, leaving you here would hurt me more than _anything_...because no matter what you tell me, I know the truth..." She was close already, having never been very far. Her hands were at the edge of the slanted shadow. The sun had shifted, grown the darkness cast by the monolith. Her fingernails touched the edge of the sunless dust. She hesitated; her hunched-over self was still in the sun, and she felt the sweltering warmth beating upon her back. Her fingertips dipped into the darkness and felt its cool embrace by contrast. Never before in her life had a shadow felt so inviting. Sasuke was there, watching her. His eyes were quivering, mouth sagging open slightly. He was surprised; _floored_ , even. Hinata put one hand into the shade, crawling toward her cross-legged, one-armed master. She peered up at him with a soft smile. "The truth is that you _don't_ want to be alone. In fact, I think you _hate_ being alone." She was in the shade, and her hand raised from the dirty ground to touch Sasuke's knee gently with the tips of four fingers. "So why won't you just let me care? I don't mind frowning sometimes..."

Sasuke was breathing hard again, sweating even in the shade. His forehead glistened and his head shook side to side in a fruitless attempt to clear his thumping mind. His skull felt overloaded with conflicting feelings. _Run away, touch her cheek, force her away, pull her close, tell her no, tell her yes, draw your sword, brush her hair_ —every thought bounced off of one another and canceled out until only one remained: "I'm just...I'm not used to _feeling_ this way, Hinata..." His hand moved on its own to touch her fingertips, allowing and inviting the gentle caress to his knee without complaint. "I've been _admired_ before, but never like this. Never in a way that made me feel _unworthy_...you're a better person than me, Hinata. You _deserve_ a better person than me, too."

Hinata felt his fingers on hers and her body jolted slightly upright, forcing a brief jiggle to pass through her features. From her hair to her chest and down to her thighs, her whole self shifted with a pleasant gasp. That was Sasuke's hand; his strong, warm, soothing hand. The hand that saved her life, wiped her cheek, cradled her when she was hurt, and trained her to be stronger than ever before. It was a good thing; a fantastic thing. She wanted that hand more than she wanted to breathe, and by some addled consequence of that thought process, she found her cheeks turning blue and her throat burning slightly. She exhaled quickly when she realized that she hadn't taken a breath in thirty seconds, and she panted to try to regain color in her cheeks before she spoke. "Y-you're putting me on a pedestal I don't deserve to be on...I don't want you to think I'm out of your reach, or somehow _better_ than you, Sasuke." She gulped. "I don't know where you would've ever gotten such a strange idea..."

Sasuke smiled when he saw her momentary lack of breathing. For all her grace, she still had moments of clumsiness. _Balance_ , he reminded himself. She was balanced in all the right ways. "When I saw you there, bathed in the moonlight and crying by yourself, I saw the opposite of who I was, and still am. You're beautiful," he said, moving his hand over Hinata's to let his fingers slide along the back of her wrist. "Empathetic," he continued as his grip came to encircle her forearm, very gently pulling her toward him. She crawled along with his urging, and she found her other hand resting upon his thigh for support. "Gentle, kind, and thoughtful, too. You had every trait that I _never_ did, and you did it so automatically...as if being as lovely, compassionate, and generous as the ocean itself came as easily to you as opening your eyes." When she was close to him, his grip pulled smoothly away from her forearm and scooped her hand, clutching her fingers in his and pulling the back of her hand near to his face. He whispered against the skin, closing his eyes and listening to the way she breathed. "I felt _tainted,_ by comparison. Corrupted." He touched his lips to the back of the silken white hand, and he felt the way her muscles shivered in nigh-imperceptible ways. She didn't speak, only listened. She was captivated by him. "Yet, despite knowing that our spirits were nothing alike, I saw that we did have _one_ thing in common." He kissed her hand again, and he felt the way she crumpled. Her elbow softened and she began trembling more earnestly. "Sorrow," he whispered, and he looked up from her hand to see her face. She was blushing furiously, and a tear rolled down her cheek. Her lips were jagged, like she was trying to fight a frown and a whimper, but she was losing the battle. "We had both lost something substantial, that day...We were both _crying_ , but you were the only one between the two of us who was brave enough to _show_ it."

Hinata's heart came back from its vacation. It beat more slowly than before, but it was beating so _firmly_ as to feel like a coconut banging against the center of her ribcage. Each little kiss to her hand was a new sensation, despite being the same action as the one before it. To her, each one was a building block. The first kiss was the foundation by which all the other kisses were able to grow, until the lightly-moistened skin atop her hand was covered by a stable tower of promises and affection. Her pale eyes were locked upon Sasuke's darkness, and despite her 'light', they were both swallowed by the shadows. They belonged to one another, away from the merciless, revealing sun. She tried to speak, but had no words. She felt revered by him, yet she also felt inferior to him in many ways. The notion seemed to travel both directions, with each having insecurities when it came to the other. They were wildly different from each other, yet when they fit tightly together, it was not in _spite_ of those differences but _because_ of them. A jigsaw puzzle couldn't be made up of completely identical pieces, after all—two prongs could not interlock in the same way that a prong and a socket could. When Hinata managed to speak, it was with a dreamy, hushed tone, and only a single word. The only thing on her mind at all: "Sasuke..."

The Uchiha made a little swish with his tongue and breath, shushing her in a soothingly gentle way as his mouth turned back to her hand. He kissed each knuckle individually, speaking in between each plant. "Your tears begged to be dried," he murmured. "But there was nobody else around." He lingered for a moment on the knuckle at the base of her middle finger, suckling just slightly. Her skin was dusty, but that didn't matter to him. "Despite having no idea what to say or what to do, I came closer to you because I couldn't resist." Another little peck, shorter than the previous. Her fingers were squirming in his gentle grasp, but she wasn't trying to escape. No, she was pushing _into_ the pressure of his lips, asking for more. The sounds she made, whimpers and shivering breaths, made Sasuke forget his misgivings and regrets. She was nervous and shy, but she was also openly enjoying the fairly innocent connection between them. "Again and again, I tried to figure out what you had _done_ to me that night, Hinata; to learn why you wouldn't leave my mind." He pulled his lips away once he had touched every knuckle on her left hand with his kiss. He licked his mouth subtly, cleaning the stray dust away. Then he looked to Hinata. "Honestly, I _still_ don't know what you did, or how it happened...but what you said before, about a space being filled..." He squeezed her hand and pulled it toward his chest, laying her palm out against his heartbeat and letting her feel it. "I understand _that_ much."

Hinata crawled inward a little closer, taking her self-controlled hand from his thigh and laying it on his shoulder as her left palm was guided along Sasuke's chest. She had nearly climbed into his lap, but her knees were still in the rubble instead. She felt his beating heart, stronger and heavier than her own despite her unusually deep rhythm. She felt every individual pump, and on some level beneath the physical she could feel _herself_ running through his veins. The two were entwined beyond understanding, beyond logic. She had been trying to explain it to herself—and to Hanabi—but had always lost track of her train of thought when she tried to determine _when_ they became connected. Had they _always_ been? Was it fate, after all? "Sasuke, I..." She still couldn't say more. He was in control, and she was in no hurry to change the course he laid out. She focused on remembering to breathe, because if she didn't actively think about it she would have likely passed out by then.

"So it's come to this," Sasuke continued speaking, gazing into Hinata's big, round-eyed wonderment. "I'm a battered, broken soul weighed down by guilt, shame, and hatred...and you, Hinata, are a pair of wings that wants to lift me out of the depths of my despair..." He let go of her hand, but she left it on his chest. She was addicted to his heartbeat. She remembered the sound of it from the night before, and the feel of it was undeniably blissful. Sasuke loved the way she trembled, the way she looked at him with such reverence and a hint of fear. He put his hand upon the top of her head, brushing down the back of it to begin smoothing out some of the frayed locks of her hair with precise fingers. Her silken strands never got tiresome, and the way she leaned her head into the stroke was more than enough encouragement to keep him doing so. "I don't think I _deserve_ you, Hinata, but here you are...here for _me_. Here in the ruins of my former life, as if you want to help me rebuild it just how it was...but that life is gone. Destroyed forever, just like my former arm."

Hinata closed her eyes and whined softly. She could feel the severity of Sasuke's loss. Truly, _deeply_ she felt it. That pain could not be repaired as quickly as she wanted to make it so, but she was determined to work as long as it might take to see a version of Sasuke who didn't let his terrible burdens consume him. "Then build a new one...it won't be the same as before, but maybe it doesn't _have_ to be...it's okay to try again..." Silence. She thought, and thought for a long time before she came up with a sort of mutually beneficial proposal."You said that you want to see me smile, right Sasuke?" Hinata whispered, her eyes closed, lids lightly vibrating as she felt her eyes rolling up. The feeling of Sasuke's hand through her hair was one that surpassed any shampoo or brush; dirty or not, she felt pampered. She wasn't smiling yet, despite her delight; she couldn't rightly control the way her mouth hung open and breathed shakily. She was losing her concentration, but she had no excuse to use in order to free herself from her hesitation—there was no place she needed to be, no deadline she had to meet. She was there with Sasuke, in _his_ division of the village, and she was being touched and caressed through the hair in a way she had been dreaming of. "W-would you, uhm..." She blushed; she was about to ask for a favor that she had never requested before. "Would you let me rest my head in your lap?" She pressed her tongue to the back of the bottom row of her front teeth, manipulating her gums a little bit to distract herself from the swell of nerves in her gut. "I've kind of had this... _dream_ , I guess, where we're just sitting together...and my head's on your thigh, and you're...stroking my hair, just like this." She didn't open her eyes. She imagined that he must have been looking at her like she was insane, because he was silent...but rather than say anything, rather than refuse her request, Sasuke simply took the side of her head in his palm and shifted her gently downward, a silent invitation. He uncrossed his legs and laid them out straight, guiding Hinata's head with a careful hand until she felt the warmth of his pants against her ear. Her breathing stopped again as she was pulled into position, and she laid her body across the rubble like it was a couch. She was faced away from Sasuke's core and opened her eyes to look out upon the ruined district from her heated headrest. From there, the jagged chaos seemed strangely beautiful. When she was settled in, with one hand on Sasuke's knee and the other on her own stomach as if trying to calm her butterflies, she felt him begin to brush her hair delicately and purposefully with his fingers.

"Like this?" Sasuke whispered, allowing her to get comfortable against the pant leg of his firm-yet-cushioned thigh. He flicked her hair playfully from one side of her ear to the other, watching her as she melted into a state of relaxation. As always, _he_ was nervous, too, but seeing the way she relaxed and turned her mouth into a blissful smile made it easier for him to continue.

"Like this," Hinata echoed, her voice quiet and thankful. Her sense of peace had been shattered by the ambush on the previous night, but she found it again under Sasuke's careful hand. She felt his fingertips run along her scalp, and with every spot he touched came a tingle that followed behind his warm fingers as they passed. Her body was covered in goosebumps and her lips pursed themselves shut.

"You're right, Hinata," Sasuke said quietly as he continued fulfilling her wish. "I don't want to be alone...but aside from a small handful of people, the _world_ seems to want me to be."

Hinata didn't frown, despite the disappointing truth. She was far too happy with where she was, who she was with; a frown wasn't possible any longer. She had missed her chance to be morose. "I know, but...it only takes a small handful of people to prevent you from being lonely." She turned her head slightly, looking up at him and shifting her shoulder so that it contoured against the outer slope of his thigh. "Maybe it only takes _one_ person to get rid of loneliness..." She watched him with half-closed eyes, and she saw him smile. As much as it bothered Sasuke when Hinata frowned, it bothered Hinata just as much to see _him_ frown. She loved to see a smile the same way that he did.

"Maybe..." Sasuke trailed off. The weight of her head upon his thigh was overwhelmingly comforting. He studied her as she laid there, her mind seemingly drifting between dreams and reality. Her eyelids fluttered, her breaths were uneven and almost sobbing, as if she were still recovering from the throes of sadness she had experienced during their unplanned clash of emotions. The outburst was brief, but it was powerful—Sasuke felt much better knowing that, in such a situation, she would come _closer_ rather than pull away. The sun was still rather high in the sky, but it had been dropping steadily. So much time had already passed, yet he felt as if it had all been a single moment.

Hinata basked in the same sensation. Time was fleeting; marching too fast. She was exhausted, but she didn't want to fall asleep. If she did, she would lose time with Sasuke, and she couldn't accept that. "Will you rebuild this place, someday...?" She yawned quietly, covering her mouth instead of her stomach with a small hand.

Sasuke smiled at her tired curiosity, and with a whisper, he answered her. " _Someday_ , I will...It's my dream to see this district revived. But it will take a lot of time, a lot of money, and a lot of effort..."

Hinata smiled again, and without really thinking, she made a meaningful promise: "Then I'll do whatever it takes to help you do it..." Each word was a little quieter than the one before it, and eventually her murmuring was followed by silence, then a slow, deliberate pace of breathing. Exhaustion had defeated her, though she had struggled mightily to remain alert.

Sasuke closed his eyes after she did. Hinata had fallen asleep then and there, but he didn't stop petting her hair. It was as soothing for him as it was for her, so he kept right on letting the frizzy tresses pass between his fingers. Threads of silk, bluish-black, fell all along his thigh and daintily touched the ground further down. All the while, the peaceful breathing of the young woman against his lap was music to his tired ears. He was sick of screams, sick of crying. The troubles of the village and the sorrows of his history left his mind as he focused on the wispy, delicate humming of the satisfied angel beneath his fingertips.

* * *

A room far away was dark and rather humid. The only source of light came from a gently humming gray-whiteness that filled the door in a rectangular shape; pure energy, visible and ominous. Liquid trickled down from the ceiling, dirty groundwater that perpetually seeped through and made the plain gray concrete underfoot slick. Pipes that had been unused for over five years remained upon the walls and ceiling as skeletal reminders of the village that once was. Everything about the structure looked as if it had been clamped down and cracked as if by tremendous pressure; rooms that used to stretch high overhead were halved in height and made to feel stiflingly small; walls were buckled inward or outward, depending on their mood at the time. The crush had occurred in a single moment. Despite the ragged, unstable appearance, the place survived. The whole _network_ survived.

Two figures occupied the room; one upright and on foot, the other seated behind a desk that was wide and flat, covered with papers that were unreadable in the absence of light. The standing figure gave her report: "The Hyuuga children appear to be out of our reach...the approved retrieval missions were both catastrophic failures which resulted in a significant loss of assets." Her voice was husky and confident, though there was an underlying hint of concern. Delivering bad news always came with a modicum of risk, and she knew it. "How should we proceed?"

The one behind the desk was a man, but like his female counterpart his features and general shape were bathed in total shadow. "As _planned_ , of course," came the curt, efficient response. "Unlucky failures should not discourage us from pursuing future successes." He tapped something upon the desk; a pen or pencil, perhaps testing for ink or sharpness in the absence of light. He was writing something, but his guest was not leaving. He was silent for a moment, but then he asked: "Is there something else?"

A nod. "The first team, as you know, was recovered and properly disposed of." Then the pause came; the failure of the mission itself didn't worry her so much as what its particular aftermath implied. "However, the second...including our 'hunter,' was _not_ recovered. Which means that Shell is most likely in _their_ hands, now."

The man who was probably in charge kept writing at his desk, undisturbed. He waited for the span of a few heartbeats before answering. "Is that fact intended to concern me?"

The female felt relieved by the nonchalant reply, though she didn't show or voice it. She had been trained just like the rest. _Never_ _show it_. "What concerns _me_ is that he allowed himself to be captured. He's strong, clever—meticulous in his planning. It could be that we're underestimating th—" She was cut off by the raising of a pointer finger, and she immediately went silent.

"He was expendable. They're _all_ expendable. Even _I'm_ expendable. What matters is that the _mission_ survives." A beat of silence. "Does the mission survive?"

An answer without hesitation. Easy; rehearsed. "Yes. The mission survives."

"Good. It's bad news, regardless. Although Shell was _indeed_ expendable, his place beside the Hokage made him more valuable than average. We should replace him immediately." The soft echo of his voice filled the cracked concrete room. "Have you any candidates in mind?"

"One," came the quick response. "Another one of the false Hokage's bodyguards, one with deep, long-term ties to the organization."

"You know what to do, then." Another brief pause of silence, as if he were doing it on purpose to remain enigmatic. "And be sure that it's done within the month. The contest will begin soon. We should be prepared for it."

"Understood." The woman gave a half-bow, then turned to leave. Just before the ghostly barrier was dissolved for her safe passage, she made a declaration to her employer: "Before you know it, the operative named Sai will be under our banner."

* * *

 **I'm gonna stop apologizing for long waits because I feel like a broken record by now, haha. I just don't have the time I had in the Summer, that's all. Anyway, I'm still blown away by the amount of interest and positive reception this story has gotten over the past months. Over 600 reviews and 300+ follows? That's insane for me! I've read every single review and I appreciate all of them! I hope you liked this chapter, because I liked writing it. As always, let me know what you thought of it! See you next time.**


	32. Finding the Missing Piece

**I just realized that I forgot to add in the scene breaks in the last chapter. That last little scene must have been a bit confusing for some people, haha. I'll go back and clean that up later tonight; sorry!**

 **Enjoy this one!**

* * *

Hanabi felt her back and shoulders slam against the sturdy wooden wall behind her as she fell into a slump. She wasn't propelled there, though; she had merely collapsed under her own weight. Her lungs burned and her eyes were stung by sweat; the band she wore across her forehead to prevent it from dripping had been soaked through. She had just gotten through a long, difficult evening of training, but she had persevered and passed her father's tests once more. Her mouth hung wide open to breathe greedily, and her eyelids twitched with effort, fighting the irritating salt in order to look up at her patriarch with a puffy red stare. It didn't always end with her in shambles like that, but today was special—Hiashi was in an especially bitter mood.

"Your sister," Hiashi began with a monotone of harshness. He stood with his arms folded against one another, hands disappearing into the loosened sleeves of his white gi. "She was damaged last night."

His word choice bothered Hanabi. She made a little crease of folded lip to grow along the corner of her mouth, a mini-snarl that never fully developed. She spoke as harshly as her exhaustion would allow. "She's not just my sister, you know...she's _your daughter_ , too." Hanabi was glad to be the heiress; glad to be respected. But that didn't mean that she was able to tolerate her father's dismissive attitude toward her best friend and sibling.

Hiashi, as usual, was not affected by the declaration coming from his young daughter's mouth. He had heard that same reminder before, from dozens if not hundreds of others who protested his callous treatment of the older daughter. As far as he was concerned, though, Hinata was certainly a part of the _clan_ , but to call her his _daughter_...? That felt like quite a stretch. He shook his head, dismissing the notion before moving on with his point. "She was hurt last night because she was not strong enough to protect herself." He continued, unflinching. "You have asked me before why I have so little faith in her...but do you understand _now_?"

Hanabi flexed her brows with annoyance and determination. _So it's like_ _ **that**_ _, huh?_ She felt her body trembling as she reached her arms down to touch the floor, her hands giving a boost that pulled her into a crouch; her feet took over after that and her knees folded open, allowing her to stand—so long as she kept her back laid against the wall. The subject of the conversation was Hinata's injuries, but truthfully Hanabi felt just as battered as the other daughter ever could have. "All I 'understand' is that you're _ashamed_ of her...I just don't get _why_. Strength isn't the only thing that matters, right...? So she took a few hits, big deal; aren't you at least a little bit concerned about who did it to her, and why it happened?"

Hiashi wasn't in the mood for a full debate, but he answered Hanabi's concerns in his typically dismissive way: "It doesn't matter—you recently endured the very same trial, but you emerged without a scratch; ergo, you are superior to her. In light of that, she is unworthy of my consideration...as she has _always_ been. Hinata is a disappointment. You shouldn't idolize her in the way that you do."

Hanabi clenched her jaw until her bones rattled, but she resisted the urge to put forth a screeching outburst. She was already testing her luck against him with what she had said, and she was hurting enough as it was without inviting another round of 'discipline.' Instead of an explosion, she spat out a pitiful bit of venom. "I don't idolize her—I _love_ her," she asserted, "and I _hate_ _it_ when you treat her like she's a burden. She's _family_."

Hiashi huffed sternly. "You have the potential to take my place someday, yet you're still very naïve. Once you've grown past this condition of childish idealism, you will understand that there is no room for weakness in the main branch of the Hyuuga Clan."

His rhetoric made Hanabi want to tear her own hair out, but she kept her calm countenance as she threw out her verbal retort: "If there's no room for weakness, then why are _you_ the head?"

Hiashi was silent for a brief moment, glaring upon Hanabi as if she had just committed an act of treason. His fingers shook against his forearms as he clasped the beginnings of his wrists, fingertips digging into muscles in an attempt to hold himself still and steady. " _Say that again..._ " he ordered with a threatening surge; his chakra boiled just beneath the surface, ready to explode if need be.

Hanabi gulped. Although she had been on a strong roll, and she still felt like there was an entire _world_ of things she needed to say, she backed down in stuttering defeat. She clapped her hands firmly together as if to pray for mercy. "I-I'm sorry, father...please forgive my disrespect." She bowed her head, short hair hanging down to frame her cheeks and hide her eyes as tears welled into them. No matter how hard or frequently she tried, and no matter how she _felt_ , she could never manage to get through to her strict mentor. Her father, Hiashi, hadn't _always_ been so cold, but lately it seemed as if he had been transformed into a pure brick of ice, unmelting even in the summer heat. "I just..." She couldn't think of how to explain herself in a way that would satisfy his impossible standards, so she settled on falling to her hands and knees, kissing the padded mat with her forehead humbly.

Hiashi stared for a long moment, but he eventually relaxed his anger and his arms ceased their trembling. The wave of disruption had passed; things were as they should have been once more. "As I was saying...you are exceptional; the strongest member of your generation by far. That is why I have seen fit to enter you into the General Tier, despite your relatively young age." He began to walk back and forth, taking three steps then turning around, over and over. "There will be opponents in this tier that are very, _very_ strong...far stronger than _you_ currently are." After a few moments of pacing, he slowly collapsed to his own knees and faced his daughter. His crouch was a peace offering rather than a sign of his own tiredness. He had spent the day training Hanabi, but his own _personal_ training had yet to begin. It was all a warmup. "Though most of the specific match-ups will be kept hidden until the day before the first match, the pool of names upon the final roster will be announced soon."

Hanabi listened, and listened well. Her father had left a beat of silence at the end of his statement, which meant that she was supposed to reply. "Yes, father," she began, knowing where the discussion was headed. "I will study my opponents as soon as I know who they might potentially be."

"Good," he answered with unveiled approval as the girl anticipated his next instruction. "Improving your own strength is important, but you must also know the strengths of your opponents in order to vanquish them."

Hanabi gave a nod against the cream-colored safety mat upon the floor. Its surface was rough and it rubbed her sweaty skin in an irritating way, but she dared not look up to that imposing man in front of her—not after she had so nearly come to honest blows with him over a sensitive personal issue. "Of course, father." Her tone remained humble, her face against the floor. Her hands were still and her elbows were locked at ninety degrees. She was in a position of pure subservience, because she knew that her father would accept nothing less. "I will not disappoint you."

Hiashi closed his eyes and gave a dangerous smile, just barely tugging at the edges of his aging, hard visage. "See that you don't." He moved to stand, quickly turning on a bare heel to face away from his child. "Our clan has not been taken seriously, as of late...so it is _our_ job—yours and mine _together_ —to see that the world remembers that we are _fearsome_." With that, he heavily departed from the dojo through a sliding door, likely heading to his own private room.

Hanabi sighed and took her head off the mat once she heard the door close behind her father. Her hand came up to rub her forehead, sensing a red spot of mild inflammation caused by the abrasive surface mixed with her sweat. She rolled backward and allowed her shoulders to smack against the wall once more—she probably bruised herself with the weight of her own relaxation, but her training had been especially brutal that day. What was one more bruise compared to the hundred she was already developing? Alone in that room, she felt its dull, hot air resting against her face. There was no breeze to relieve her; the windows were closed and the room itself was designed to promote mugginess. What good was a training room if it kept you _comfortable_ , after all? Combat was a difficult thing, so the training had to be even _more_ difficult, lest one get too complacent.

She blinked hard and wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her white training garment. She was finally cooling down, and her sweat stopped flowing so freely. She tossed her headband, letting every strand of her dark brown hair slide through the loop as she pulled it over her head. "Ahhhh," she exhaled gratefully, leaning her head back and opening her eyes. _I wonder what Hinata's up to,_ she thought to herself. With a quick glance toward the closed door, as if ensuring that her father was well and truly elsewhere, she snickered and pumped chakra into her eyes. Bulging veins formed around her sockets and upper cheeks, and her pupils tensed into action as her Byakugan was turned on. She knew just where to find her sister, and so her vision went there immediately; her consciousness weaved through the village, up the sloped crater walls, and across the wasteland of the former Uchiha District. She saw a pair of people, familiar chakra humming within each of their bodies. What she saw them doing made her blush rather suddenly.

Hinata's head was in Sasuke's lap...well, laid against his outer thigh, but still. Was she sleeping...? Hanabi got a rush of jealousy in her chest, but it was quickly replaced by something else. She noted that Hinata was having her hair caressed, one stroke at a time, by the Uchiha's fingers. Hanabi, a voyeur who was several miles away, clutched her hands against the cloth of her pants, and she felt immediately awkward. She had been looking to pick up on some training maneuvers, or some kind of secret being shared...and despite some playful speculation, she hadn't expected to see what she was seeing. As if she had actually been _caught_ spying, she quickly relaxed her eyes with a slight gasp and her awareness was brought back into the narrow confines of the training room.

Hanabi gulped, wriggling her toes in thought as her hands played against one another, wringing fingers and wrists together. The relationship between those two was so strange, to her: whenever Sasuke was with Hinata, he seemed so kind and gentle...but Hanabi knew that underneath the thin layer of deceptive humanity, he was practically a force of nature. She was worried, perhaps without practical reason, that she had been _seen_ as she peeped on them. That worry in itself was enough to keep her eyes shut for the rest of the evening, but the lingering impression of the scene never left her thoughts. How long had it been since _she_ had felt that sort of affection? Ever since she became the heiress, she had been disconnected from many of the comforts that might have made her 'weak'. Her hand idly came up to the short-trimmed locks of her hair, and she ran her own fingers through it, for the lack of having somebody else to soothe her. She couldn't wait for her sister to return...she had _so many_ questions.

* * *

Kakashi's office was lit by the setting sun, since the window shades were opened to let the day in. Shizune was seated beside the Hokage, as always, and she was fact-checking some of the documents that had already been reviewed and stamped. When it was Kakashi, Shizune _never_ found mistakes in the work, but her habit for making thorough secondary examinations was an old tradition that had been left over from Tsunade's tenure in the office. Shizune had noticed that morning that one of the usual guards was missing from the door, and she had been put on edge by the absence. Kakashi, too, seemed wary of the bizarre change in routine. Though, he didn't let it bother him on the exterior.

The silver-haired Kage was distracted from his own worries because he was busy addressing the concerns of a small group of Academy students; they had gone through the trouble of making an official appointment and _everything_ , so it was impossible to simply ignore their plight. In the end, their complaint was just an organized protest against being given too much homework by their teachers...but Kakashi was the sort of man who found _every_ complaint to be worth listening to—and that was exactly why he rarely got any sleep. Though, even with his perpetual exhaustion, Shizune never caught him slipping up.

The copy ninja was just finishing up his lecture-like response to the grievances of the children: "So in conclusion, although the work seems monotonous, arbitrary, and excessive...this _precise_ curriculum is what Naruto Uzumaki undertook when he was your age. It was due to the strong foundation of the Academy's lesson plan that he was well on his way to becoming a hero to the entire world even before he was officially a genin." Kakashi hummed from behind folded hands, his chin leaning upon the plated metal backs of his gloves. "And you _do_ want to be like Naruto, right?"

The brown-haired kid in the front looked like he wanted to contest the idea further, but he had been argued expertly into a corner. The poor thing never stood a chance—as soon as Naruto's name was invoked, the battle was over. He started to mutter about, but he was clearly grasping at empty air. "Yeah...I guess, Lord Sixth...but...but _still_! It's...you _know_..." He grumbled, crossed his arms pettily, then turned around. "Whatever, let's go, guys..." He walked through a gap in the center of his small entourage of four friends; two girls and two other boys. They all followed behind him as he walked out. Every one of them seemed displeased in their own way, but they had each been forced to admit to themselves that they _did_ want to be like Naruto. If that meant homework, then homework it was.

As the door closed weakly behind the depression march, Shizune gave a wicked grin to her "Funny how you forgot to mention that Naruto never actually _did_ his homework..."

Kakashi shrugged, falling back into his comfortable chair and locking his hands behind his head. "Yeah, well, they don't need to know all _that_. Naruto's a public figure, now; a role model. If kids find out that he never did his homework, then we'd have an awful lot of complaints from disgruntled Academy instructors on our hands. Not everyone can become as strong as him with nothing but good intentions driving them."

Shizune nodded. "Yeah, Naruto's pretty special, isn't he?" She rested her elbow on the desk and picked up her coffee with another hand, sipping it thoughtfully. "How do you think his photo shoot went?"

Kakashi closed his eyes and tilted his head back, letting the orange light of the evening sun warm his forehead. "Hopefully well. We'll need the pamphlets and posters printed by the end of the week if we intend to get the people as excited as we need them to be."

Shizune nodded. "Though, we still haven't convinced _him_ to be involved in the publicity..."

Kakashi sighed. "That'll be quite a chore, I think...unless we play it _exactly_ right. I don't get the impression that he's very happy about the role he's supposed to play in all of this."

"But he's still going to do it, right? You haven't heard anything different?" Shizune pursed her lips, clamping a tiny straw-like coffee stirrer between her teeth, tipping it up and down in a playful manner.

"Not yet, I haven't. I'll send somebody to talk to him once I figure out _who_ to send." Kakashi _was_ going to say more, but then he got the sense that somebody was outside with bad news—somebody unscheduled. He and Shizune shared glances; there was no word out there from the guards that _had_ shown up, minus one. It was fairly common for unexpected visitors to arrive, plus it was almost time for the guards to make a shift change, as well, so Kakashi had an idea of who it might have been. Still, caution was important. Shizune and Kakashi both knew that the village was not exactly safe from itself anymore.

There was a single knock. A moment later, the door opened from outside. One of the guards had taken the liberty for himself to grant access—and in walked Sai, a trusted member of the protectors of the Hokage. He wasn't in uniform, but rather his street clothes. He had a blank, serious demeanor despite his casual dress. He closed the door behind himself and gave the target of his protection a respectful nod. "Something happened last night," Sai announced quietly after stepping away from the door. There was no need for a greeting.

Kakashi rubbed the corner of one of his eyes and heaved his shoulders in an exasperated huff. "Something's _always_ happening, lately...what is it this time?"

"Shell," Sai began, not mincing words or dancing around the subject. He was standing in front of the desk and he laid both palms against its edge, gently. Despite the gravity of his news, he was measured and calm. "He has proven to be one of the traitors."

Kakashi gave a slow, steady nod. It was bad news, but nothing altogether unexpected. Honestly speaking, the newest Hokage didn't trust the _majority_ of the ANBU forces he inherited. Unfortunately, the Leaf's military strength was nowhere near strong enough for him to get away with being picky about his elite guard. "Hmm, then that would explain his absence this morning...How did you find out? What happened?"

Sai cut his eyes away, avoiding contact with his superior as he admitted the circumstance. "Actually...I wasn't there to witness the treachery itself, only the aftermath. I did hear his confession, however..."

Kakashi pondered. "A confession? Is he still alive...?"

Sai answered with a bob of his head. "Yes, he's alive—and in my possession, as we speak." He gave a pat to a slight bulge on the side of his jacket; a sealing scroll confined to an interior pocket. "I was given the task of 'handling' him."

The list of people who could give Sai a 'task' was quite short, so the pieces fit together easily. "A task given to you by Sasuke, I'm guessing?" Kakashi asked while knowing the answer; he wasn't ignorant. He had been receiving piles upon piles of reports from citizens and shinobi alike that a mysterious man with mismatched eyes and a dark cloak had been roaming the streets. Depending on the source, he was either 'causing trouble' or 'saving lives'. Kakashi happened to think of it as an equal mix of both. "How is he doing, Sai? I haven't seen him since Naruto returned a couple of weeks ago."

Sai shrugged his shoulders, unsure about how to answer such a question. Sasuke was difficult to read, but the message of Shell's battered body was clear enough—he wasn't completely 'cured' of his violent nature. "He seems... _healthy_ , Lord Sixth. Healthy, but indecisive. I've done what I can do to encourage him to take the job you've offered to him...but he seems to be deeply conflicted about it."

A typical paper document on Kakashi's desk received the Hokage's stamp as the talk continued, and it was subsequently passed along to Shizune for a double check. "That's not surprising. He's still trying to find his place in the world; he doesn't know if he wants to live like his father, like Naruto, like Madara, or like somebody entirely different. I hope for the village's sake that he decides _soon_ , though...his presence has a lot of people on edge. I think they'll calm down somewhat if he makes up his mind..."

"What about you, Lord Sixth? Are you uncomfortable with his presence in the village?" Sai asked, head slightly tilted.

"No...not uncomfortable; more like impatient. I _need_ his support, now more than ever...if Shell has been a traitor all this time, how can we know who else has been working against us? How deep is the network?" Kakashi laid down his stamp and leaned over his desk to look up at Sai intensely. "Did you learn anything of value from your prisoner?"

"He didn't _know_ much of value...all he told us for sure was that there are dozens more like him...perhaps hundreds. I don't think he was lying about it, either." Sai looked over his shoulder at the door that was tightly shut behind him. Could the guards currently working have been a part of the scheme, as well? Was the Hokage truly safe in the open like he was?

"Can you be _sure_ that the numbers were the truth, and not just an attempt to stir us up?" Kakashi asked, for posterity's sake.

"Yes. I could see it in the traitor's eyes, Lord Sixth: he _couldn't_ lie." Sai got a chill as he recalled the sight, imagining the implications once again. "His very _soul_ was held in Sasuke's hand...no amount of emotional dampening could overcome the threat of such power."

Kakashi paused for a moment, considering. "And yet he's still alive, you said?"

"That's right," Sai replied. "Sasuke placed him under a genjutsu trance, and then I sealed him into this scroll." The short-haired, pale-faced artist tucked a hand into the depths of his outer jacket and pulled the container free, laying it upon Kakashi's desk. "Here he is...you know the seals to extract him, if you want to." He gave the Hokage a brief look. "But be careful, if you do. He wasn't happy about his situation. He was calling you the 'false Hokage.'"

Kakashi looked to Shizune, who was keeping quiet and diligently working on her proofreading. She was interested, though; he could tell by the way she occasionally thumbed a charm upon her bracelet. It was a tell she had. The former leader of Team 7 understood a bit more, after hearing a particular term out of Sai's mouth. "False? Ahh...so he's one of Danzo's loyal remnants, then?"

Sai hummed affirmatively. "One of _many_ , if his statements are accurate..."

Kakashi rubbed his forehead in thought, pushing up the headband he wore to get at itchy skin. "I knew they were going to become a problem, sooner or later...I suppose I should be glad that it's sooner. Sasuke may not be _sure_ about what he wants to do with himself, but as long as he's here, I know that he'll help us stop this insurrection—Naruto, too, absolutely." The Hokage took the sealing scroll from his desk and passed it along to Shizune. "Keep this someplace safe. I might need his opinion, sometime...but until then, let's leave our misguided comrade on ice." Shizune nodded as she took the tiny prison, then she looked at Sai as the latter began to speak again.

"There's one more thing that you may want to hear...Shell's target was Hinata Hyuuga."

Kakashi frowned under his mask. "So the clan _is_ being targeted...at least, its princesses are. Do you think this could stem from an old grudge against Hiashi?"

Sai shook his head. "The late Lord Danzo had no hatred or animosity for Hiashi; in fact, he viewed the Hyuuga clan as an exemplary representation of Konoha's principles."

"Then why target them now...?" Kakashi rubbed his chin. "Look into it, Sai...but don't reach too far on your own. If you _do_ need backup, be very careful about whom you trust..."

"I always am," Sai responded quietly. "And as strange as it may sound, after all he's done...I've grown to trust Sasuke. I think I'll continue working with him, so long as I have your permission."

"Granted," Kakashi said almost immediately. "And since we're on the subject of Sasuke again, I've got an errand I'd like you to run for me...would you mind delivering a message to him, when you can? The sooner the better, but it's not really an emergency."

Sai gave a single nod. "What sort of message?"

Kakashi nodded to Shizune, who looked on curiously for a moment before she realized she was being called upon. "Oh!" she perked up. "Here," she said, clutching a tied message which had already been sealed with wax. "It's not really _sensitive_ information, but we sealed and stamped it so he's more likely to take it seriously...because knowing him, he's going to find the idea inside to be pretty silly."

Sai took the wrapped message with a curious slant in his brow. "Is that so...? Well, then I'm sure he'll be glad to receive it. I get the feeling that Sasuke could use some silliness in his life these days."

Kakashi gave a nod. "Well, if you can find him, let me know how he responds. If not, it's no big deal. I might just end up tracking him down, myself."

"It's alright, Lord Sixth...I think I know where I can find him." Sai raised a hand, already forming the seal for his ink transportation technique.

"Just be careful if you plan to sneak up on him," Kakashi cautioned, but Sai had already vanished from the office. He and Shizune shared a glance of mild concern, and silence laid between them for a moment. "Oh well...I'm sure he'll be fine," Kakashi hummed with a little bit of humorous concern in his voice.

* * *

Sasuke had been running his hand through Hinata's hair for hours, soothing himself with the sensation long after she fell asleep. He followed the shape of her cheek and neck with his firm hand, using her dark, cool hair as a cushion between his skin and hers. He studied her placid face as she slept; she was breathing in and out in such a quiet, subdued way as to make Sasuke wonder if she was breathing at _all_. She was, though—her chest rose and fell in steady waves, and he could feel the subtle shifting of her shoulder against his knee whenever she reached the peak of an inhale. The sun kept moving, but the burning star was constantly being resented for it. He didn't _want_ time to pass, but he accepted that it _must_ pass. He hadn't thought of anything dour or discouraging since the moment the girl's head hit his leg, and he didn't want that feeling to go away. She was like a bar of soap that cleansed his mind of grimy negativity. Whenever she left him, he began collecting the dirt again by basking in loneliness...but as long as he saw her every day, he felt like it was possible to remain _mostly_ clean.

The serenity, even for just that _moment_ , didn't last; Sasuke sensed a presence along the outskirts of his district. His eyes pulled up and away from Hinata's face, and he looked across the expanse of his domain with fierce intentions. Normally, he wouldn't think much of it—a wanderer, a nosy kid—but after last night, with Hinata's very narrow escape from the clutches of something unquestionably _evil_ , he was not in the mood for uninvited guests. In a flash, he left from beneath Hinata's slumbering head, but before her sleep could be disturbed by falling even a mere inch, he had replaced the pillow of his thigh with the soft side of his pack, giving her cheek something to rest upon. Her face scrunched with discomfort, though, because she missed his warmth in her rest. He felt a momentary surge of guilt, but her _safety_ was the primary concern, then her comfort soon after. He vanished from the wavelengths of human sight by means of pure speed, and as he instantaneously moved from the far end of his district to the very entryway, his sword was drawn and its tip was extended dangerously. He covered the entire distance of the ruins in the blink of an eye, perhaps less—and he stopped only when he felt the barest resistance of a fleshy neck against the blade. The body which said flesh was attached to had instantly seized up, and Sasuke heard a rewarding cough of surprise and unexpected pain. No blood was drawn, such was the depth of control that Sasuke had over his blade. If his captive made even the slightest movement forward, however, he would have been skewered seven ways before a second gasp could sound.

"S-sasuke!" the intruder belted out with a cautious heave, carefully limiting the movements of his throat to keep the pressure of the sword from overcoming the resistance of his flesh. He took a step back, but the sword followed him, as if magnetized to the vein on the corner of his neck. "It's only _me_..." he tried to explain, but the recognition in Sasuke's eyes was already apparent.

"I _know_ who it is..." Sasuke coldly replied without apology, keeping the blade tip attached to Sai's throat with no intentions of drawing it back. "What are you doing here without my permission?"

Sai _would have_ gulped, but even _that_ slight expansion of his neck might have been enough to allow the blade to draw blood, and he definitely didn't want that. In his right hand, he clutched the message that had been entrusted to him, and his eyes wordlessly shifted to that side, indicating the missive with the Hokage's insignia melted onto it. Only upon seeing that symbol did Sasuke's sword relax, pulled away from Sai's throat to give him the opportunity to properly breathe. The messenger collapsed onto one knee and clutched his throat, feeling a rush of relief, but also of fear—his identity alone hadn't been enough to save him. Had Sasuke been in a worse mood, well...that may have been _it_ for him. "I only came...to deliver this," Sai panted, then offered the missive up to his supposed-to-be-partner as a gesture of good will.

Sasuke took it without a word, and he broke the seal unceremoniously with his single hand, standing calmly in front of the heap of Sai he had created on the uneven stone ground. He unrolled the paper and began to read. His lip twitched and his eyelids narrowed. "Is this a joke...?" The Uchiha asked, not seeming to find it humorous.

Sai gave his throat one more clutch and forced out one more precautionary cough before he shook his head and shakily stood up. The danger had passed, but had it _really_? "What was that _about_ , Sasuke?" He asked, feeling betrayed. He had a confrontational look on his face, but he knew that he was about as intimidating as a field mouse in front of that godlike figure. "I'm on _your_ side...remember?"

Sasuke made a tch sound, turning his head away while refusing to show any guilt—though he did _feel_ a dose of regret. He didn't apologize, but he gave the courtesy of an explanation, however little good it did: "Last night's incident has me on edge, that's all...I'm not in a trusting mood, today. There are dozens of traitors, at least...how am I to know that you aren't one of them?"

Sai scowled; he was offended, really. "You think I'd be foolish enough to try to attack _you_ , of all people...?" He was on his feet, and willing to consider the aggressive greeting as water under the bridge. It was time to move on; no more dwelling on the misunderstanding. With a final shake of his head to clear his thoughts, he blinked his eyes tightly and spoke of his mission. "As for the message, I've been assured that it's not a joke, but I don't know what it is...even so, the Hokage has requested that I tell him your response."

Sasuke sighed, looking back down to the message. It was brief, as Kakashi's requests usually were: _Sasuke, our publicity department has no current photos of you. In order to properly build excitement for the upcoming tournament, we'll need a few different shots to pair with Naruto's already-completed session. Please let me know if there's a time that will work best for you, and an appointment will be made with the photographer. Preferably late at night, for backdrop purposes. Have the person carrying this message relay your response to me as soon as possible. -Kakashi Hatake._

Sasuke smirked with amusement after he finished reading. "He didn't sign using the Hokage title...that makes it a _personal_ request, doesn't it?"

Sai chuckled nervously. "I suppose it does..." He rubbed the back of his head. Suddenly his partnership with the Uchiha seemed a lot less certain than it had five minutes prior. Time for some damage control. "Sasuke...I'm sorry to have intruded. I should have known better than to show up unannounced like that."

After rolling up the note, Sasuke offered it back to Sai without hesitation. He ignored the apology, but he certainly heard it. "Tell Kakashi that I'll be free tomorrow night, after ten."

Sai blinked. Was it _that_ easy? "I'm sure that he'll be very happy to hear it, Sasuke." He was turning to go, but he was carefully watching Sasuke. He was stopped cold by another statement:

"Before you go, Sai..." Sasuke brought up with a grave look. "I have a question to ask you; a personal one."

"Go ahead," Sai consented. He didn't want to act or look suspicious—not after what happened. His openness wasn't caused by his recent fear of having a sword pressed to his throat, though; truthfully, he legitimately wanted to clear the air with Sasuke. He wanted there to be trust between them.

"Why are you so eager to work with me? To help me?" Sasuke had sheathed his sword at some point when Sai wasn't paying attention, and he laid his thumb along the hilt as if ready to draw it. "You must have sought me out for a particular reason in the first place...and I don't believe that it's because we were both part of Team 7."

Sai decided that he would tell the truth. His soul wasn't in Sasuke's hands, but something else compelled him to be totally truthful: "I want to help you because I feel the need to _repay_ you, Sasuke...Actually, I owe you my life, because you killed Lord Danzo Shimura."

Sasuke's mouth fell open a half-inch with surprise, revealing the top row of his white teeth as he muttered quietly. "Because I killed Danzo...? Danzo was your _leader,_ and the the acting Hokage, too. What I did was _wrong_...wasn't it?" He had never been so earnestly _thanked_ for one of his misdeeds before. It felt strange.

Sai closed his eyes and shook his head evenly. "No, Danzo was not a leader—he was a madman. I was born into Root, just like Shell—I served him because I had no other choice. As children in training, Danzo forced us to kill our friends; our _brothers_. He stripped us of humanity and played us as pawns, manipulating and sacrificing us for his own gain under the guise of serving Konoha...he placed a seal upon my tongue, and the tongues of all the others, which prevented us from speaking out against him, but one day..." Sai gave Sasuke a slow, genuine smile; a _free_ smile, allowing silence to echo before he spoke again. "One day, the seal vanished. News quickly reached us that _you_ had slain Danzo Shimura, and suddenly we could _speak_ again...even more than that, we could finally make our own choices in life. Your intentions may have been cruel, but the outcome...well, you became my savior, whether you cared or not. I didn't always trust you, before...but I've felt for a long time that I owe you a debt. Now it's time to repay you."

Sasuke frowned, finding something he had in common with Sai that he hadn't expected to hear— _brothers_. By the sound of Sai's explanation, they had both had someone special taken away by Danzo. Suddenly, the guilt over the earlier confrontation was too strong for Sasuke to ignore, and he apologized as if on a whim: "I see...but you don't owe me anything. What I did was for my own selfish reasons. But...for what it's worth, I'm sorry for attacking you just now. It won't happen again." He was looking at the visitor's neck. _'Visitor',_ now _—_ no longer an intruder, but a welcomed guest. "Is your neck alright?"

Sai smirked, instinctively running two fingertips across the point upon his neck that was slightly red and tenderized by the recent poke of a sharp surface. "Yes, it's actually fine. Though, I'd like to ask...is there a reason why you're so protective of these ruins? I would have expected them to hold nothing but painful memories for you."

"They _do_. This place is really just a reminder of a life long gone, by itself...but there's something _else_ I need to protect. Something here— _right now_ —that's very precious to me..." Sasuke trailed off, leaving it to Sai's imagination. "And if somebody poses a threat to that 'thing,' then that person is going to be dealt with. Swiftly." He closed his eyes and smirked. "Since we're being honest with each other, you're only conscious right now because I actually happen to trust you, Sai."

It was the artist's turn to question motives, now: "Why would you trust me?" He asked, getting a wry look on his face. "As far as you know, I'm quite the liar—despite my disapproval of his methods, Danzo was a very effective teacher."

Sasuke chuckled with one single huff of air, running a hand through the deep black locks that hung over his forehead. "I trust you because of Naruto, Sakura, and Kakashi. _They_ trust you. I don't know you very well, yet, but they view you as a part of Team 7...and that's good enough for me. Aside from that, you've been very helpful thus far." Ignoring the fact that Sai had previously lost track of two bodies of evidence, it was true. Sai had handled quite a bit of the humdrum portion of the investigation. "Speaking of your helpfulness, what did you end up doing with Shell?"

"He's in the Hokage's care, now. I've also given Lord Sixth a brief summary of what we're up against, and he has given me permission to continue working with you." Sai gave a nod of his head and shoulders, a very slight bow of obedience. "But he has concerns, Sasuke."

"What _kind_ of concerns?" Sasuke's interest was caught. Sai was an honest sort, and if Kakashi said something ominous, then the Uchiha survivor wanted to hear it.

"He wonders about your direction," the operative responded calmly. "He thinks that your _own_ uncertainty is a large part of what makes the village so uneasy about your presence."

"And we both know that when Kakashi says something, he tends to be right..." Sasuke blew a sigh out of his lips, with the air puffing some of his loose hair away from where it dangled against his nose. He needed to cut the wild strands, soon. " _Let_ _them_ be uncertain, then. I'll make a promise to you right now that I am not going to cause harm to the _good_ people of this village..."

"Only the bad?" Sai remarked with closed eyes and a half-smile.

Sasuke nodded gradually. "Yes, that's right."

"And you'll be the one who decides whether a person is good or bad?"

"If you want to put it like that, then yes. The amount of people I trust within Konoha can be counted on one hand; because of that, I feel like I'm the only one here who's _qualified_ to make the decision." Sasuke looked to the sun, ever-lowering, and he thought about Hinata. He hoped that she hadn't been awoken by his sudden departure, and he knew that he was going to return to her soon either way.

"What about _outside_ of Konoha?" Sai asked curiously, as the avenue was opened by the specific wording of the statement.

Sasuke seemed amused. "There _are_ others...but that hardly matters, since we're _here_ , and not out there."

"I was just curious," Sai finished, looking back down to the opened letter in his hand. He had his response; the mission was complete. Now he was just chit-chatting. "I need to return to the Hokage; it's nearly time for my guard shift to begin." He turned away, looking over his shoulder while forming a hand seal. "Be careful from now on, Sasuke; your actions from here on out are likely going to be carefully observed, by both the enemy _and_ your allies."

"I'm aware of that," Sasuke hummed. "Thanks for the concern." He watched long enough for Sai's ink to envelop him and carry him away, and then the visitor was gone. Sasuke turned around and shook his head. _A photo shoot? What a waste of time..._ He returned to Hinata's sleeping spot, strolling somewhat lazily through his former home. As he got close enough to see her again, he found that she had snuggled up completely with his pack, arms encircling it and nose buried against the rugged material as if it were a plush bear. She was still asleep, and she looked far too comfortable for him to feel right in disturbing her. He bent his knees, resting on the fronts of his feet as he hung his arm over his thigh. He watched her from the front, admiring all the little things that made her unique. Her hair was scattered all across the side of her face, and one of her eyes was huddled into the bag. Her cheeks were lightly blushed even while she slept; was she dreaming?

"Hinata," Sasuke murmured quietly, his voice below the volume of a whisper. It came out like a single beat of a fly's wings, so tiny as to be unheard.

Yet she heard it, even in her sleep. It was her name, spoken by a man who cared. She had been in a dream world, but she woke to another one, an impossibly pleasant sunset—Sasuke's eyes were gazing down at her with unrestrained tenderness. He looked at her like she was a precious flower, precariously rooted into the ground after an earthquake. A single strong breeze might have been enough to pull her out of her place, but _he_ was there—he would dig a new home for her, ensure that her roots remained strong, even if she could not do it herself. And she saw, too, the way his face softened when her eyes opened and peered up at him. She whimpered quietly as her arms and legs began to stretch, contorting herself in a variety of ways to loosen up her stiffened limbs after an enjoyable nap. She realized after a moment that Sasuke's leg was in full view, which meant she wasn't in his lap anymore. She looked to his bag, and she saw that she had drooled upon it in her dreamy bliss. She blushed again, then lifted her head groggily from the brown-colored bag. "S-sorry, I didn't mean to fall asleep, Sasuke..." She smiled at him sheepishly, tucking the hair away from her face and hiding it behind a pale ear.

Sasuke couldn't help but smile, but he tried to keep it small. In the end, his cheeks looked strained by the wave of soothing happiness. It came just by looking at her; he couldn't keep it hidden forever, unless he looked away—and he didn't want to do _that_ , either. So he settled on smiling, and he saw his own reflection in the deep pools of Hinata's near-colorless eyes. To him, the man in those eyes didn't seem familiar—it was a person who looked like Sasuke Uchiha, but he was far too content. Too pleased with his life. That wasn't the person he knew himself to be, but perhaps things were beginning to change against his will. He maintained his quiet whisper as Hinata pulled herself into an upright seat, rubbing her eyes and yawning into the back of her hand. "Did you rest well?" Sasuke wondered aloud.

Hinata wiped a tear from the base of her eyelid, one that had formed during a long, yawning stretch, and she nodded. "I don't think I've slept that well since before the war, Sasuke..." she said, and she meant it wholeheartedly. She began to rub her arms and legs, checking her own wounds, only to find that they were no longer bothering her. She blinked with hesitation, her voice tinted with confusion: "Did you do something to me while I was sleeping?" she asked, genuinely surprised by the sudden improvement of her condition.

Sasuke shook his head, telling her no with a pleased grin. "You're just a quick healer, I think..."

Hinata looked down at her own two hands; they were still dirty on the surface, but her knuckles weren't bruised any longer. "T-that's strange, though...I've never recovered this quickly before..." She looked at him with doubt and wonder. Surely he must have done _something_ to help her, whether he knew of it or not. She wondered if her recovery had been fueled by her sense of extreme peace, because she _still_ felt that way. Waking up from her dream had done nothing to vanquish her bliss. "Thank you for protecting me, Sasuke." She kept her hands to herself, though she wanted to reach out to him. She wanted to touch him, to embrace him, to kiss him. She had done it once before, so why couldn't she summon up the courage to do it again? Surely he wouldn't push her away, but she was worried—cautious. Her heart was healing, but it was still cracked. She didn't want to break it again. All that she had thus far seen of Sasuke told her that he was a good man; an honorable man. A man worthy of her affection. And yet she couldn't shake her worries about Hanabi's previous suggestion: _'I mean, when the tournament's done and he doesn't need to train you anymore, do you think he'll still hang around like he's been doing?'_

Hinata didn't _mean_ to have doubts, but it was a worthy concern. Sasuke was known to be fickle; perhaps even sporadic. She wanted nothing more than to give her heart to him, but she _feared_ for herself. It was still too soon for her to place so much faith in another person again. The wounds upon the surface of her body had healed swiftly, but the damage to her beating heart ran much deeper. It was no longer about Naruto himself, but about the pain she felt when she was refused by him. It had been agony every day; love was a harsher, more persistent pain than anything she had ever known before. The throbbing discomfort had been eased by the Uchiha in front of her, but she feared its return. So long as the words remained unspoken, her heart was protected. She could still come back from her fanciful thoughts if she kept them at a distance.

Sasuke caught Hinata staring, and his persistent smile turned sly. "You look like you have something to say..." he whispered, watching her closely as the sun began to fully set behind his back, disappearing behind the distant walls of the village.

Hinata shook her head. "N-no, there's nothing..." she lied, but she did so convincingly. Even Sasuke was fooled—either _that_ , or he understood that he was better off if he didn't pester her. The pair let the moment stand on its own—their hands-off policy had worked in the past when it came to those impulsive moments of awe and contemplation, and it would _continue_ to work. "Have you been watching me the entire time?"

"Almost," Sasuke said honestly. "I had an interruption a few minutes before you woke up, but it was nothing."

"An interruption? Here?" She flexed her eyes, igniting her Byakugan to check the surroundings. Thankfully, she didn't find any hints of an intruder—nor any blood painting the ground, which was a relief in itself. "What was it?"

Sasuke reached his hand out to lay it atop Hinata's head, soothing her with a single stroke down her cheek and her neck, which compelled her to relax her eyes and meet his face with a blush. "Don't worry about it," Sasuke hummed. "I was only given a message from the Hokage—and now I've got a photo-shoot scheduled for tomorrow night."

"Photos?" Hinata blinked. "For what?"

Sasuke shrugged. "Something about the publicity department for the tournament. I think they're planning to use my rivalry with Naruto to entice the public into attending, but they haven't got any recent photos of me for the posters, pamphlets, and whatever _else_ they're going to sling around."

"Your rivalry...The audience probably just wants to see you _lose_ , right?" Hinata asked, referring to the publicity.

Sasuke gave a nod. "That's right. They'll see me as a villain; a lot of them blame me for what happened during the war just because I'm an Uchiha. Yoshino Nara was ready to spit in my face when I knocked on her door. She considers it to be _my_ fault that her husband was lost to the Juubi...as if she can't separate me from the other members of my clan."

Hinata nodded sadly. "She's not the only one who thinks that way, either...but it's okay, Sasuke. When you defeat Naruto, I'll be cheering...even if nobody else is." She smiled at him, bringing her hand up to capture Sasuke's own against her cheek. She rubbed her smooth skin against the mild callouses of his palm, enjoying the difference in texture with closed eyes and a soft sigh.

"Even if I _can_ beat him, I don't know if I _should_ ," Sasuke admitted. "This whole thing seems designed to show off Naruto's heroism—so if he loses to the 'villain' at the end, won't that leave a bad taste in a lot of people's mouths?"

Hinata shrugged, touching Sasuke's wrist with her lips; she couldn't contain her affection, despite her misgivings. It simply wasn't possible to keep a grip on herself. "I don't care what _they_ think about you, Sasuke; I want you to win." She kissed along his hand just as he had done with hers before she took her nap. She whispered up to him, watching his face as he began to hold his breath. She smiled at him as her voice tickled his hand. "Regardless of how the rest of Konoha sees you, you're my hero."

Sasuke closed his eyes and allowed himself to be engulfed by the sensations that Hinata offered. He never expected to be put into the same position which he had placed her in so recently. She proved herself time and time again to be his equal in many ways. "If that's the case," he whispered, gently pulling his hand out of her grasp, allowing her fingertips to drag along his skin in a slow departure all the way to his own tips. "There's something I'm going to need..."

Hinata felt his hand leave hers, and the logical part of her brain told her to leave it at that—but she didn't. She scooted toward him and reached out to lay her hands carefully on his shoulders, steadying herself in front of him and meeting his stare with hers. Her lips quivered. "What do you need, Sasuke...?"

"I'm going to need my arm back..." He said to her, leaning his head down to press his forehead to hers. While her hands were on his shoulders, his hand came to the back of her head to assure her that the contact was mutual.

Hinata shivered as she felt her skin touch his above her brows. It was too late. She didn't originally intend to let herself fall any further, but that was against the very _nature_ of falling—there was nothing that could stop it from happening. She smiled to him, bashfully breathing through her nose to keep her panting as quiet as she could. "I thought you couldn't just 'replace' your arm..." she murmured, tilting her head, fighting gently to put her lips nearer to his even as she spoke. Her heart was racing as she felt his hand against the back of her head. Her palms slid down his shoulders and arms to the elbow before dropping down and resting on the sides of his chest. His torso was broad and strong; she felt weak by comparison, but she also felt him trembling. She had power over him, and she was starting to grow _sure_ of that fact.

Sasuke smirked at her callback. "You're right...I couldn't replace it because I thought crucial part of myself was destroyed..." He moved his mouth forward, catching her lips to kiss her in a casual sort of way. As if it were perfectly acceptable for him to do so. He inhaled shakily before he found the stability to speak again. "Maybe that part wasn't gone, after all..." He kissed her again, and she melted into him. Hinata's arms slipped all the way around his chest, her hands meeting each other to lock her into an embrace behind his back. Her chest flattened against his, and her head tilted back to lean up into his mouth. He whispered against her lips, closing his eyes and savoring her taste and warmth. "Not gone, but _misplaced_..." He had at some point fallen onto his behind, sitting against the pillar yet again—but this time, Hinata wasn't laying her head against his thigh. Her legs were straddling his, putting her close to his body in a heated, intimate way. Neither of them knew for sure what they were getting into, but the uncertainty didn't turn them away. Sasuke huffed out, running his nose along Hinata's chin and cheek, having lost much of his self control. His hand began to slide along her back, tracing her spine slowly from top to bottom, then back up again. "I think it was just buried...waiting to be uncovered again."

Hinata felt Sasuke's thighs against hers while she straddled him; she had softness in her legs that Sasuke didn't, but beneath that plushy layer of flesh she was built hard. She felt the tension in her muscles as she clamped against him. She didn't want to let him go. She could feel each of Sasuke's fingertips as he dragged them over her back. She wanted to be explored by his touch, just as she wanted to explore him. She imagined what it would be like if he had his other arm, and she bit her lip as rather impure thoughts began to bubble upward. Her innocence had been thoroughly maintained throughout her life, and so she could hardly process the impulses now running through her...and it seemed as if Sasuke was the same way. They were both being driven insane, but neither one of them was completely sure what to do next. And so they stared at each other, cheeks flushed red and breath coming in and out in torrents of passion. Hinata tilted her head to toss her hair out of the way, and then they kissed again, losing track of how many times they suckled upon one another's lips. Their attempted restraint was a total failure—each of them had woken up with severe reservations about the previous night's events, and yet there they sat, locked together at the waist and chest with arms around each other and mouths locked as if by glue. Resistance was pointless. There was no turning back. As if by magic, they were destined to desire one another. Was it even worth the trouble of trying to fight it off? They decided together that no, it wasn't worth it.

"Did I help you find the missing piece...?" Hinata asked breathlessly, mouth hanging open and gasping quietly as she took a break from the smothering kisses. She felt wonderful in every way she could imagine.

"More than that," Sasuke grinned and touched his lips to the base of her ear, whispering sweetly into the canal. "I think that you _are_ the missing piece, Hinata...perhaps you've been missing for my entire _life_ , until now."

Were she to try to explain how those words made her feel, Hinata would probably just stare blankly forward for an hour. It was an indescribable sensation of fitting somewhere; _belonging_. She felt herself filling a space that nobody else could. She had never felt particularly _special_ before, but in Sasuke's grip she found the ultimate sense of completion. "If that's true, then here I am," she said weakly, overcome by strong emotions. "I'm not missing anymore..." She offered herself to him in that way, and she looked at him with redness all throughout her face, neck, and ears. She felt as confident as could be, but the very nature of their closeness was enough to boil her blood with embarrassment. She breathed hard, and so did Sasuke, and they admired one another in silence for a long while. The surge of passion was beginning to fade away as they reached a sort of physical stalemate, where a mix of uncertainty and modesty prevented them from following the underlying instinct that compelled them forward. Their bodies stayed clamped together, their lips never venturing more than an inch from the skin of the other, but the intensity simmered down over time to become relatively innocent once more.

Sasuke wondered how his life might have been different if he had paid more attention to Hinata as a child; he was so obsessed with surpassing Itachi that he never acknowledged the beauty of the village and its people, nor the potential benefits that could be derived from the companions that surrounded him. Always, Hinata Hyuuga was off to the side, unassuming, shy, and just waiting to be met. Would he have found peace that much sooner had he simply approached her and given her a chance to instill it in him? His arm was around her shoulders, and he gave her one last kiss, a long and tender one, before he urged her to dip her head under his chin and relax herself there. She did so gladly, turning her head to put her ear against his chest, seeking the heartbeat she had missed. Sasuke whispered to her: "I'll win, Hinata...I'll win just for you."

Hinata smiled against the thick fabric of his shirt. She knew that he was telling the truth-and she really wanted to see him _win_.

* * *

 **Hope you enjoyed it! Let me know what you think!**

 **Side note: I've had a few guests ask questions in the review section, and I don't really have a good way to answer them. If you have questions, you should make a real account (it's free and easy) so I have a way to send a private message. I'll always answer questions if I have a way to get in touch, but there's nothing I can really do with guest accounts. Just something to keep in mind—I love reading guest reviews just as much as signed ones, but questions should be signed if you actually want to receive a reply!**

 **Thanks for reading!**


	33. A Bad Plan

**Surprise! I actually made good time on this one, haha. Enjoy!**

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The evening was a perfect one in every way. Even the weather was _just_ _right_ ; warm without causing sweat. As the sun slowly set upon Sasuke and Hinata, a gentle breeze blew across their faces and jostled their hair in soothing, symmetrical ways. Hinata's slender violet-blue locks mingled with Sasuke's dangling black cords to make a visual mess, but even on that unkempt level they were _glad_ to be connected. Lying to one another—or to _themselves—_ about what existed there between them was no longer possible. Truthfully, there was _nothing_ standing between them that was large enough to interfere with the magnetism that drew them together. That was precisely the _issue_. Neither Sasuke nor his prized student could stay away from one another, and despite the commotion it would no doubt cause with family and friends, the time had finally come to admit it. Silence ruled the moment as they sat together, entwined like lovers without daring to utter the word that made it so. The heat of Hinata's cheek was steadily lain against Sasuke's chest, her calming aura piercing the layer of his shirt to quiet his worries and confusion.

Hinata could have possibly been content to leave the moment alone and just bathe in its supreme pleasures without a word, but she had things she wanted to say. Mostly, she wanted to hear him speak; to enjoy the way his chest vibrated with every syllable against her ear and jawline. The bruise that used to be in place at the bottom of her chin was no longer painful, though a small splash of discoloration remained as evidence that it had once existed. "Sasuke," she whispered to him, putting her hand against his chest and running her fingers along the lean muscle that resided beneath, tracing the hard curves of his pectoral and upper abdomen.

"Yeah, Hinata?" He replied down to her with a lazy murmur, shifting ever so slightly to allow his eyes to find the top of her head. She was buried in his chest, thus he couldn't see her face, but he could feel the little details of it as she nuzzled against him. The soft button of her nose was like the tip of an especially-soft pencil, doodling little nothings against his heart's stable thump. His hand was gradually swapping between stroking her hair, caressing her shoulders, and tracing little patterns of affection all up and down her back. Truthfully, beyond just a desire for victory in the tournament, Sasuke wanted a new arm for the sake of enjoying the soft heat of the Hyuuga girl more thoroughly. He longed for the sensation of holding her in both arms—of gently cupping both of her cheeks at the same time. Now that Hinata had gotten so close to him, Sasuke wanted nothing more than to keep her there.

"I got tired of keeping it hidden..." Though her cheeks were rarely blank in Sasuke's presence, their rose-colored tint was a special one this time; light and fluffy. It was a sweet shyness laid plain upon her face. "I mean, hidden from _you_..." She leaned her head away from his chest, and she flexed her stomach and neck, stretching herself up to kiss the underside of Sasuke's chin. The thin film of dirt on his face was a spice, as far as she was concerned—just a little touch to complement the alluring flavor of his taut skin. "You're not just my teacher, and not just my hero..." She whispered through her muffled lips as she rubbed her mouth along Sasuke's jawline. Her arms roped around him, and her hands came to be clutched against his upper and lower back, wrapping him fully in her slender arms while her chest leaned in to flatten against his.

Sasuke was unusually jittery, swallowing waves of his own saliva to wet his throat, but it kept drying up every time he moved to speak. That wasn't how he had expected himself to behave with her; she had usually made him comfortable, perhaps _too_ much so. Yet now he was nervous, nearly sweating if not for the fact that the sun was on its way down and had been offset by a cool breeze coming over the walls. His hand, braver than his voice, ran down the side of her stomach and hip, feeling tender curves underlined by firm muscle. She was both hard and soft, another testament to her near-perfect balance of traits. He felt her shivering wherever his hand ventured, which gave him a reminder of his own significance to her. It was all mutual; what one felt, so did the other. She was pushing her bravery to its limits by being so open with him, and that knowledge gave him the strength to do the same. "What am I, then?" Sasuke hummed with anticipation. The look in the Hyuuga girl's eyes was hypnotizing; she spoke so little, and yet she said very much just by blinking up at him.

"You're whoever you _want_ to be," she answered easily, though with some sense of doubtful self-awareness—as if she wasn't sure that her answer was as insightful as she hoped. She giggled bashfully in hindsight, then brought her hands up from his back and lightly clamped her palms to Sasuke's cheeks, cupping his face and raising her knees to press her weight upon his thighs. She climbed his lower body with her bent legs and gave herself some extra height, allowing herself to look down at him. Her weight against his thighs was a blissful kind of pressure; she was no mere rock, but a living, breathing woman who had been given limitless permission to clamber against him. He did not brush her away. She smiled as she touched her nose to his. "Who _do_ you want to be, Sasuke...?" She closed her eyes, tilted her head, and eased her lips onto the mouth of her 'master', kissing him from above. The breath passing through her nose was slow but wildly deep; she had managed to keep control of herself, but she needed a _lot_ of air to keep it that way.

Sasuke savored her kiss, allowing his head to tilt back as her hands influenced his cheeks and her thumbs gave tender little caresses along the back of his jaw and the base of his ear. Her palms had small callouses; not nearly as rough as his own, but her skin certainly belonged to a fighter and not the flower she appeared to be. Sasuke allowed himself to melt in her grasp and received her kiss graciously; the back of his head thunked lightly against the stone pillar behind him, but he made no grunt or protest. Hinata's hair dangled down from her head as she maintained the kiss, draping along her cheeks and covering Sasuke's alike, trickling down like silken waves to dangle across his neck. The ticklish sensation was lovely, and he gave a quiet laugh through his nose without breaking the seal of their lips. He couldn't get enough of her, and she couldn't get enough of him. What that meant, exactly, was still undetermined—they only knew that it was foolish to keep lying to themselves, and to one another. There had been no question from the very first time they _nearly_ came together, but were rudely interrupted by Hanabi—they were hopelessly addicted to each other. They wanted to kiss, cuddle, and fondle. It had taken them a month of constant arms-length togetherness to finally realize it, though. "Who do I want to be?" Sasuke asked during a rare break in the lip-locking, breathing warm air along Hinata's neck while he allowed her to stay propped up by his thighs. "I don't know anymore, Hinata...who do _you_ want me to be?" He asked her honestly, for lack of his own certainty. She had a way of giving him clarity simply by smiling at him, whether it be about his place in the village or his nature as a human being. She made him feel _good_ , both physically and spiritually. She was not perfect, no; nobody was. But if he had to choose one woman to idolize and look up to, the choice would be abundantly clear.

Hinata took her mouth away from his lips, though with some reluctance. Like a hormonal teenager who had never been told the ups and downs of intimacy, she was playing it all by ear. She touched the tip of his nose with her puckered mouth, smiling all the while as her hands dropped from his cheeks to run along the upper firmness of his shoulders. Her fingers squeezed, short-trimmed nails digging into the cloth of his vest and getting a feel for the cord-like musculature beneath. She loved the sensation against her fingertips; Sasuke was immensely strong without being bizarrely bulky, and she couldn't help but admire the perfection inherent in his physique. She knew that he could throw a building (or two) with one hand, yet his shoulders were compact enough to fit through a narrow door. Genetics, she decided, had given him quite a gift. "No, no," she shook her head lightly, sweeping part of Sasuke's face with her dangling hair. The locks weren't as clean as she wanted them to be, but her companion didn't seem to mind as he turned his head to bury his face in the soothing waterfall that fell from her scalp. "I can't decide for you," she murmured, raising her lips from his nose to his forehead, tucking a hand up into _his_ hair for a change. It was a bit rough and stringy, but the texture was a nice contrast to what she was used to—just like his sub-par jerky, she appreciated the _ruggedness_ of it. "You have to tell me how you want people to see you...how you want to be _remembered_ someday..." she played her game, emboldened by the way she was allowed hovered over him with the use of his flat-lying thighs as a step-stool for her knees. She expected that her opportunities to look _down_ at him would be few and far between, so she made the absolute most of it.

Sasuke smirked up at her, eyes half-lidded as if he couldn't bear the full brunt of the sensory overload she gave to him. Her scent, though noticeably lacking perfume, was still an enticing, exotic one to his sensitive nose. There was a hint of flowery nectar that clung to her skin and hair and seeped outward, and that was how he identified her. She had her own unmatchable aroma, completely unique to _her_. He knew that he could browse the Yamanaka Clan's vast supply of domestic _and_ wild blooms yet never find a single flower—nor even a _combination_ of them—that perfectly matched his Hinata. While one of the girl's hands was fraying and massaging his hair, he found the other on his shoulder and laid his own palm against it. Upon feeling his touch, her dainty hand turned at the wrist, quickly allowing their fingers to grasp one another and intertwine in a perfect ratio.

His hand was larger than hers, but their knuckles measured together perfectly to create a stern, unbreakable lock when they both squeezed tight. He wanted to pull her hand to his chest, but her luscious upper body was already there, soft and weighted against the muscles that lined his ribs. He didn't want to replace that sensation, so he settled on letting their hands mingle together in open air, slightly extended out to the right. The slowly-disappearing sunlight reflected off of the clouds overhead to paint both of their hands in the same mix of violet, orange, and bronze; it was as if they were each a part of the same expertly-brushed masterpiece. "There are a lot of possibilities," Sasuke said quietly, his words mingling with Hinata's deep breaths to make a symphony of tones. "I've got the power to do big things, but...I don't know if I _want_ to be 'big' anymore. I would have taken the burdens of the entire planet onto my shoulders, once, but...I don't think that I still want that."

Hinata relaxed herself, allowing her focus to move to the hand she shared with Sasuke. She parted her legs slightly, allowing the inner sides of her knees to slide around Sasuke's thighs once more, dropping to a height lower than his for the sake of cradling herself in the nook of his neck; her nose, lips, and chin fit perfectly between his shoulder and cheek, and she melted there as she pressed an ear to the side of his jaw, lounging within the vibrations of his voice. She loved to hear him talk, whether he spoke with happiness, guilt, or anything in between.

"Now that I'm here again, I can't bring myself to look away from the village and think about the rest of the world..." He gave a short huff of self-depreciating amusement. "I think I've become _selfish_ again. There was a time when I wanted to protect—and _control_ —the entire world, but...this ruined field of cold stone and choking dust makes me yearn for something of my _own_ to hold dear; something small at first, but satisfying. Something that will grow on its own and leave a legacy long after I've moved on."

Hinata nodded her head, whispering to his throat. She was muffled by his skin, but he still understood her clearly: "That sounds beautiful, Sasuke..." She hummed sweetly to him, playfully fluttering her eyelashes to tickle the extra-sensitive skin along the wall of his neck. She felt him squirm slightly, and she snickered to herself. Once his extraordinary power was looked past, she was constantly surprised by how _human_ he was. "Your legacy," she kept on the subject. "Do you mean that you want to revive your clan...?"

Sasuke nodded, giving Hinata's hand a tight squeeze. "Someday, yes..." he didn't want to lock Hinata into some kind of unspoken obligation, but...a deep part of him was compelled to wonder if she would be willing to 'help' him fulfill his responsibility to his fallen kin. In fact, he blushed red just thinking about the concept, but was thankfully masked by the dwindling sunset and its final burst of rusty-violet color against his face. The shadows of the pillar had been circumvented by the total coverage of the sky. "The Uchiha name deserves another chance; I refuse to let the Sharingan die with me."

Hinata was impressed by the certainty in his voice. She took her hand down from his hair and she laid it against his chest, never even dreaming of breaking his hold upon her other set of fingers. In fact, she squeezed a little tighter and felt the way his own digits relaxed against her soothing pressure. She shifted her rear a little bit, sitting more comfortably against his upper legs as they stretched behind her. She felt the beginnings of his knees at the very back of her rump, and that seemed like a good place to be. "It's been a good day, hasn't it, Sasuke?" She asked him, knowing the answer without a shred of doubt. It may well have been her _favorite_ day in all her life. She felt so cherished, so _equal_ to him.

"Yes," he answered her with a slow nod. "A promising day, too." He looked down and away from Hinata, lifting the half-length of his left arm, pondering over it. Hinata saw his thoughtfulness, and she responded by leaning backward a bit, taking her breasts off of his chest and creating a chilling absence of warmth. Sasuke nearly protested, but he saw that one of her hands went to work on peeling up the left sleeve of his shirt, unveiling the craggy, uneven stump at the base of his former elbow. He was curious about her intentions more than he was bothered by the lack of her warmth.

She admired his form, even where it was the _furthest_ from perfect—along the end of his half-arm, there were creases of skin that hadn't been properly positioned before the wound healed over and sealed itself. She figured that it was probably an emergency job, one that had never been corrected later on, perhaps due to Sasuke's own stubborn refusal to have it fixed. He almost seemed _mangled_ there, and she winced when she imagined how much it must have _hurt_ to have a limb torn apart like that. She stared with glistening wonder at the emptiness that should have been a forearm, wrist, and hand. There used to be muscle there; tendons, bones, and skin as well. She thanked her own luck and skill that she was still whole in _body_ , despite the little dabs of nothingness that dotted her heart and soul within. He fingers got brave, as Sasuke watched in silence—she could see that he was pursing his lips, trying to hold his tongue; his tolerance for her meddling was being tests, but she wasn't backing down. She knew that she sometimes had to find things for herself if she ever wanted an answer. Her digits touched the creases and caverns along the end of his arm, and she bit her lower lip curiously. The texture was bizarre; not entirely smooth, but not rough, either. The skin there almost felt like rubber, and her thumb plied the folds with exploration in mind.

It was then that Sasuke fidgeted slightly under her wide-eyed attention, feeling remarkably insecure as he was studied like a lab sample. He couldn't blame her for having curiosity, but he was starting to get defensive. "What are you _doing_...?" he asked her in a way that was a little bit harsh. He immediately bit down on the side of his own tongue as punishment; _don't talk to her like that,_ he scolded himself. Still, he wanted to know her motive. He hadn't taken her for the type to be so aggressive and insensitive, but before he could dwell, her answer came satisfyingly quickly.

Hinata meeped as she was torn from her trance by his voice. "I-I'm sorry, I just...I wanted to know what you're _like_ there. Since you said that you're going to get a new arm soon, I...I just didn't want to miss my chance to see what _used_ to be there..." She shook her head quickly, and then she took her hand away from his limb, laying the task upon herself to pull the sleeve back down to cover what he seemed to be ashamed of. She gave his arm a gentle and nervous pat, assuring him that it was 'safe' from her exploration at last. She noticed poignantly that despite his tone of reprimand, he didn't let go of her other hand, and the thought gave her a sense of peace. He was patient with her, and she was glad.

Sasuke closed his eyes and mouth, letting out a sigh through his nose. Hinata, the ever-curious purveyor of the past. Even in the present, she saw fit to dig into his history proactively. The thought made him smirk and he shook his head. "It won't matter what's there, soon," he said as his eyelids parted. To his surprised, during the brief shutting of his eyes, the sun had completely disappeared. The sunset was no longer coloring the sky, and the smaller, silvery-white stars overhead were beginning to pop into view one at a time. "I'll be complete again before you know it."

Hinata smiled again, immediately relieved that she hadn't pushed her luck too far. She had grown somewhat complacent during their long string of kisses and cradling, but the thought struck her again that Sasuke was a very dangerous, unpredictable person—she had seen his rage with her own eyes quite recently. Her fear wasn't for her own sake, though. She believed him when he said that he would never hurt her. Her worries surrounded everybody _else_. Would he hurt _them_? Just how protective would Sasuke be of her? Though she didn't like to give herself excessive importance, she couldn't deny that she felt _extremely_ valuable to Sasuke. Every day, she felt the connection he had with her grow—and she knew the truth of it because it was exactly the same connection that _she_ felt. Every time she saw his eyes, she recognized a reflection of herself within them. At some point, their feelings had become fused.

"When will you ask for a replacement?" Hinata wondered, keeping her eyes on his face rather than the covered stump. She tilted her head and nibbled her lower lip, still naturally bashful but not at all intending to break away from the intimate closeness she had been the one to initiate. "I've heard that the tournament is going to start less than a month from now; will you have enough time to get used to a new arm by then?"

Sasuke smirked. He gave a nod; confidence was always a strong trait of his. "Absolutely. Though, given that I've already agreed to a photo shoot tomorrow night, maybe I should have it done as soon as possible..."

Hinata blinked, pondering on that. "Oh, right; it would be strange if you were missing a limb on all the posters but had one for the matches..." She had a pleasant upward curve on her lips, happy and peaceful. "It sounds like you're going to have a busy day tomorrow."

The raven-haired man huffed and nodded. "Very busy," he acknowledged. "In fact, as much as I hate to say it, we may need to postpone your training for another day—or have a very short session."

The student grinned at the master, showing sparkling, well-aligned teeth. She shrugged her sloping shoulders and canted her head nicely. "Don't worry about my training for now, Sasuke; you have your own goals to accomplish. You've already helped me to become stronger, and there's still plenty of time before I'll have to fight."

Sasuke frowned slightly. "Plenty of time that we _know of,_ at least." Nothing was certain anymore—well, a _few_ things were. He kept her hand in his, then gradually started to move his legs from under her pinning seat. "Stand with me, Hinata," he invited as he helped her to scoot off of his legs and rose to his feet, taking her with him by way of a supportive tug on her wrist and forearm. "You should stretch your legs, keep yourself active; the pain may have gone away, but I don't think you've _completely_ recovered yet." After he ensured that she was upright and had dusted the debris off of the knees of her pants, he took a step to begin a slow stroll, finding easy footholds along the jagged path. Hinata didn't follow behind; instead, she stood alongside him and shared equal footing with him. As they walked through the abandoned, decrepit Uchiha district beneath the twinkling stars, they kept their hands locked together. "Oh, and sorry about the mess," he added somewhat humorously as they maneuvered through the hazardous terrain.

Hinata laughed with carefree splendor. "Actually I think this place is very beautiful, Sasuke...it's full of _potential_." She commented enthusiastically as she looked around, really taking the time to appreciate the details. True, it was uneven and downright dangerous to tread through, but such imperfections could be smoothed out. Desolation and broken may have covered the landscape, but it reminded her of a freshly-turned field, rather than something ruined. All it would take were a few lovingly-planted seeds, and life could very easily return there. She could hardly wait to see the day when it actually happened.

* * *

Naruto and Sakura were taking a walk, as well. The Hero of the Leaf had finished his practice session with his wife, and the two were both covered in sweat and early on the path home from the training field. Sakura had been wrestling with her 'secret knowledge' all day long, but most especially after Naruto returned from his photography session and she looked straight at him. Though, she should have known better than to try to hold some knowledge from her husband, given his remarkable ability to see straight through her. Crickets chirped, birds fluttered back to their nests for the night, and the nearby stream was becoming quieter with each step they took. With a quiet yawn, Sakura tried to keep the subject off of her worries: "The stars look fantastic tonight."

Naruto looked up alongside her, his bright blue eyes mirroring the sparkles overhead, though he was less impressed than his spouse. "They look the same as every other night, though," he said with classic obliviousness, scratching the side of his chin and squinting as if he thought he might have been missing something. "I guess they're a _little_ brighter than usual..."

Sakura sighed with a smile, squeezing her lover's hand and swinging her arm front and back leisurely to keep pace with their patient stroll. She was worn during training, but her rapid regeneration had already gone to work on repairing her damaged tissue. Naruto was the same way; the couple never stayed down for long, whether in combat or... _not_ combat. Suffice to say that their newlywed month had so far proven to be very _stimulating_. "Someday you might _appreciate_ the stars, Naruto," she said with a teasing smirk. "but I guess for now you're too busy worrying about all the people on the ground, huh?"

"Yeah, well...there's a lot to worry about..." Naruto grimaced, closing his mouth and taking on a serious expression. "Y'know, somethin's been bothering me since we last saw Sasuke..." He stopped walking, and Sakura kept going until he tugged on her hand and bid her to hold still and listen to him. "Hey, I _mean_ it...something's really wrong around here."

Sakura gulped before she turned around, and she put on her best smile. "What do you mean?" She tried giving him a sultry, 'we should go home and get into bed as soon as possible' type of look, something which normally derailed his thoughts and got him to focus instead on the beauty of her features. Of course, it didn't _always_ work, and this was one of those uncommon exceptions. When she saw that his worries were genuine and deep, she sighed and took two steps closer, loosening the tension in his arm and whispering. "It's that bad, huh...?" She felt a bead of sweat roll down the back of her neck despite the cool breeze.

Naruto was giving her a worried gaze, as if she were being slowly crushed by the weight of a slowly-moving glacier and there was nothing he could do about it. "I dunno _how_ bad it is, but it's been driving me crazy for weeks. At Choji's place a couple weeks back, Sasuke told me to use the sensing abilities of Kurama's chakra to check out the village; he had me looking for evil intent..." He tightened his hold on Sakura's hand, and his other hand came up to rub his pointer, middle, and ring fingertips across the gleaming surface of his own headband. He traced the circular, spiraling pattern of Konoha with affection, but also with worry. "And I found some; I found it _everywhere_. People've always had bad thoughts, but...I've never felt it as bad as it was then, and I feel like it's been getting worse...it's starting to make me feel _sick_ , y'know?"

Sakura frowned. She didn't share Naruto's knack for sensing negativity, but she had been nursing her own rising sensation of unease since long before Sasuke ever returned—though, since that point it had certainly gotten stronger, having come to a head that morning when she met Sasuke and Sai's 'guest'. "Y-yeah, I think I know what you mean..." She stuttered through a sympathetic reply. It was bugging her, too. A lot more than she let on.

After thinking too long and too hard about it, Naruto growled with frustration, clutching his forehead protector like he was about to rip it off. He decided to leave it on, but his stern grip nearly dented its rounded edges. After the momentary struggle, he shut his eyes and dropped his hand to his stomach, clenching his abdomen through his orange vest and dark undershirt. He wasn't ready to admit defeat, but he looked to Sakura intensely and admitted a stumble: "I really don't know what to do, Sakura. I can feel viciousness all around me. Kurama's been real anxious lately, too, but Kakashi-sensei won't talk to me about it. And on top of that, I get the feeling that Sasuke knows more than he's telling me, too...I just can't understand what's causing all this _grief._ " With his eyes glowing slightly in the night, he stared at Sakura and clenched his jaws. "It's pissing me off, actually...I want to help everyone, but I don't even know where to _start_."

Sakura felt an instant wave of guilt, and it kept folding over on itself and getting worse until she blurted up without thinking it through: "I have an idea of what's going on, Naruto..." She put her hand on his cheek, running her thumb across the length of one of his whisker-shaped birthmarks. "Sasuke...he asked for my help this morning while you were away...he told me to keep it a secret from you, but..." she smiled defiantly. "He's not my husband; _you_ are, and I'll be damned if I ever keep a secret from the most important person in my entire life."

Naruto scrunched his brow, smiling at first, but then he tilted his head with mild disbelief. "He trusted you, but not _me_...?" His mouth contorted into an irritated slant. "That smug bastard..."

Sakura beamed at the expected response, though the mood wasn't elevated for long. "He's got his reasons, I'm sure..." And she understood those reasons completely. Naruto's involvement often made things complicated and noisy; he had a long history of getting a good result when he was let loose, but the issue this time wasn't going to be solved by his usual method of 'go here, then punch somebody in the face.' It was quite a bit more complex. Telling Naruto the truth was probably only going to frustrate him even more, but he deserved to know. "Whatever is happening runs a lot deeper into this village than anything we've run into before; it's not just one enemy, it's an entire _mindset_."

Naruto kept his forehead tight, wrinkled beneath his headband with defiant determination. He crossed his arms on his chest and tucked his hands behind his folded elbows. "I've heard _that one_ before; c'mon, just tell me what's going on and I'll fix it before I go to bed tonight...nobody threatens Konoha on _my_ watch." He jabbed his thumb against his own chest, and he gave Sakura a half-mouthed grin; all that was missing from the picture was a twinkling bead of light on his sharp canine tooth.

Sakura shook her head playfully, but she had a downed expression. "Come on, Naruto; you should _know_ it's not that simple anymore." She set her hands on her hips, balled up into fists within her tight black gloves. "We're not dealing with a handful of rogue ninjas or foreign mercenaries, this time...from what I understand, there's a whole _faction_ of the Leaf that disagrees with the direction we've been taking." She gave Naruto a look of concern. "They've gone to work by spreading a message about how the peace you've helped create is making the village weak...and I think an _uncomfortable_ number of people are buying into it."

Naruto scowled. "What do you mean, you think they're 'buying into it'?" He took a step closer. " _You_ don't think this peace is wrong, do you...?"

Sakura shook her head, sighing. "No, of _course_ I don't. I think you've shown us a world where we can all finally get along, and I deeply believe that we're on the right _path_..." She put a hand on her cheek, turning her head into it and thumbing her lip anxiously. "But you've heard about the problems, right...?" She peered at him through her hanging pink hair. "People are going broke; the Hidden Village system in its entirety is running out of money in _every_ country." She shook her head sadly. "The nations as a whole are doing just fine, but... _our_ economy is suffering because of the peace. The current daimyos don't even seem to _care_ about our plight, despite constant requests for aid...and it's making the villagers worry. And not just worry; a lot of them are starting to get _angry_."

"The daimyos don't care about us?" Naruto's face relaxed a bit. He hadn't really heard about any of that. When faced with this new information, his expression turned flustered again. "Wait, how do _you_ know all this?"

Sakura gave him a somber smile. "Because I've been reading the _news_ , darling. Our economic difficulties aren't a _secret_ , and unfortunately the problem is going to keep getting worse as people keep talking about it; fear is contagious, and so's anger. These black-ops shinobi who are rising up, the ones in league with the man that Sasuke captured, are only a _symptom_ of the problem—the root cause is out of our hands as individuals, right now." She leaned in to kiss Naruto's chin, and her eyes locked onto his. "You're a _hero_ , Naruto; an inspiration to millions...but some would say that you've done your job _too_ well. A world without warfare doesn't really _need_ entire villages filled with soldiers like us...and that's _great_ in the long term, but right now there are a lot of people in Konoha who have lived their entire lives as soldiers; it's how they've made names for themselves, a purpose that they've devoted their lives to serving _._ Fighting is the only thing they're really _good_ at...and now they're being told that they're outdated... _useless_. It's more than just a financial problem; it's a clash of worldviews. That's what makes this situation so dangerous. For all we know, we're outnumbered in our own territory..."

Naruto listened, and he understood. He didn't _like it_ , but he grasped the concept. What if war was the only way of life that a person _ever_ knew? He sifted through years of memories, drifting all the way back to Haku, the boy who thought of himself as nothing more than a tool. When _he_ was stripped of his purpose, he lost all sense of hope and meaning. He threw his life away in a desperate bid to be 'useful' one last time. Naruto wondered, perhaps too late, about how many others just like Haku existed within the very walls of Konoha. The blonde jinchuriki clenched his teeth and dug his fingers into his palms. "So these forgotten soldiers are starting to feel like outcasts..." He caught himself feeling sorry for them, but then he thought back to the reality of war. Neji's bloody body grew cold against him all over again, and a tear formed on the corner of his eye. ' _That's the world that these people want to resurrect?_ _To hell with that!_ ' Naruto filled his thoughts with his own resolve, and he wiped the burgeoning tear away with a sleeve before clenching his fist at his side. "No, that's not _good enough_ this time...we all— _every single one of us_ —fought in a war to decide the future of this world, and we _won_. We may have lost a lot of friends and family along the way, but we stood atop the supportive arms of their sacrifices and held our heads high on their behalf...we finally _did it_. We came together as one world and realized that we were all a part of the same struggle...so after we went through all that, what right do these _bastards_ think they have to come in and try to tell us that we shouldn't have bothered!?" He was visibly shaken by the idea; he had honestly thought that the world's worst days were forever locked in the past, so the news of fresh problems struck him quite hard.

Sakura winced. She stepped up to Naruto and put her hand on the top of his head, scooping the back of his skull and dragging him down to put his cheek against her chest. He hunched over willingly, thankful for her embrace, and he shut his eyes to let her comfort him. His arms slid around her waist, and he slumped against her. She gave him a few slow, soothing pats on his upper back, shushing quietly. "It's okay, Naruto...we'll get there one day...but it was never going to happen all at once. We've taken a huge step, but there's still a lot of ground to cover before the world is truly _different_."

"I just...I thought we were closer to it than this..." Naruto lamented into Sakura's comfortable bosom, taking deep breaths and letting his anger slowly fade away.

"We're closer now than the world has ever _been_ before...and I think that by the time you become Hokage, we'll _all_ be ready for real peace...it takes time; we need to _adjust_. The day we're all hoping for is _coming_ , I promise." Sakura kissed the top of his head, then whispered into his ear. "But it's not here yet...and that's why you're so important, Naruto. You're the embodiment of all our hope and enthusiasm. When you're around, you make people want to cheer...and they want to be _like_ you. As infectious as anger can be, your optimism is even _stronger_." She nipped the lobe of his ear, tempting him. "If you want to help, all you need to do is be who you've been for your entire life...Because you're Naruto Uzumaki, the man who saved the world and then became my husband."

Naruto was encouraged by the way she spoke, and he paused for a moment to let it all sink in; after the stretch of silence he couldn't help but make a snickering observation into her chest: "You sound exactly like Kakashi-sensei when you lecture me that way, y'know..." He rasped with humor as he gradually recovered from his sorrow; he was fighting the urge to shed a tear for his fallen comrades, but Sakura was there for him; she encouraged him, kept him strong. He didn't _need_ to cry, because she already understood that he wanted to. She also told him the _truth_ , even when he didn't want to hear it. He was constantly being reminded of why she was so perfectly qualified to be his wife.

Sakura giggled genuinely, allowing the simple joke about the current Hokage to lighten her spirits, accompanied by the hope that its very telling was a sign that the low point of Naruto's mood had come and gone. She kept the banter going, carefully leading his mind away from the depressing problems that plagued the present world. "Maybe _you'd_ sound like him, too, if you had paid more attention to his lessons when we were growing up..."

Naruto had a guilty little smile on his strained face. "I used to think that _you_ paid enough attention for the both of us..." He peered up at her with mischief on his face and then exerted a firm and sudden push with his chest against hers, sending her teetering backward with a yelp; he followed her down until she landed flat on her back. He was pressing her into the long, concealing grass with his hands on her shoulders and his thighs around her upper legs, pinning her effectively against the moist dirt. He chuckled triumphantly down to her: "But you might've forgotten the part about keeping your guard up at _all times_..." He had himself propped up, peering at her with a coy little smirk. "Maybe you need a reminder..."

Sakura was glaring up at him with freshly-broken fronds of grass and bush twigs in her hair, leafy greenness which had been snagged during her sudden tumble. She _wanted_ to be upset with him, but she _couldn't_ be—Naruto was giving her a look that she couldn't help but succumb to. Loving and true, he was gazing upon her as if she were the only person in all creation who mattered to him. Every single time she saw that focus in his eyes it made her weak. All she could do was return the same look, then offer up even more. After a breathless moment of basking in the sweltering heat of wedded bliss, she whimpered with want and reached her arms up to wrap around his neck, pulling him aggressively down into the dirt with her for a long, inviting kiss. One of Naruto's hands found the slope of her backside, then slipped higher up to dip tantalizingly beneath the lower hem of her shirt. The red fabric of her top was peeled up, allowing the slightly-prickly grass to prod and scratch the skin of her lower back. Sakura realized with a blushing grin and a shiver of eager anticipation that it wasn't time to go home _just_ yet.

* * *

Elsewhere, far from the embraces of lovers, Sai was busily opening his drawers within his fourth-floor, one-bedroom apartment. The lights in his abode were usually turned off, and the windows often closed, lest the coloration and visible texture of his freshest works be compromised while they were still drying. He was digging for his 'work uniform,' the long black robe and ill-fitted mask. He hadn't been one of the Hokage's guards for an especially _long_ time, and so his faceplate was an extra one which had been taken off of a high shelf as an afterthought, and only after years of neglect. Its worn strap did 'fit', but only in the sense that it didn't _immediately_ fall off; he often found himself trying to adjust it, but it was always either too tight or too loose due to its uneven, partially-broken down nature. On that night it was too tight, hugging his skull uncomfortably and leaving an elastic impression against the back of his head; oh well, he could try to get it right again next time. He was nearly to the point of a perfect fit, but there was never enough time to fiddle with it. As an artist, Sai felt that time was fleeting, and he always felt like he was going to be late for something, whether it be an appointment or simply his next chance to paint.

The smells of wet ink and dry, well-rubbed pencils filled the medium-sized room, as they did every night. Sai was a man of many inspirations, with numerous works in progress at any given time. He believed that a true artist never really 'finished' a masterpiece; they merely allowed one concise statement to flow into the next one in a smooth, functionally endless cycle. Each tapestry was a question mark, and every piece of paper a period; the image laid upon it was the sentence to be punctuated. Together, the assortment of works came to form a splendid paragraph, a cohesive train fo thought that was meant to be enjoyed all at once upon a single wall. Each paragraph of visual splendor was in turn meant to be accompanied by another, and the 'story' wasn't finished until the artist retired—and a proper artist didn't retire until his or her life had come to an end. As a young artist, Sai had grand plans; _beautiful_ plans. He could see it all in his head, already; every single work that he would ever create—it was only a matter of making his hands move in the proper strokes to put each thought on a physical medium for others to enjoy as much as he did.

In his home, he was never more than arm's length away from at least _one_ canvas. Even as he dressed, one free hand was constantly jotting new details onto one or two works, dipping into various colors to breathe life into what used to be nothing more than lines and scribbles. His favorite part of creating a new piece was always the moment when the seemingly random lines, dots, dashes, and squiggles all came together as one complete statement. The darkness of his residence never bothered him; his eyes were quite accustomed to black conditions after having spent many of his formative years underground. Even the darker colors, such as ocean blue versus deep violet, were clear and distinct to his perceptive gaze in the dimness. His brush was presently loaded with a dusty yellow, swishing around in a pattern of flowers being blown by unseen wind. He smiled to himself as he pulled the brush away, dipping it into a nearby cup of water to cleanse the bristles before digging into a brown hue, adding seed pods into the center of each tiny swish, making for the very beginnings of a field of sunflowers. He was in a bright mood on that night, thanks to a rather productive chat with Sasuke. The last Uchiha wasn't really so bad, despite his offputtingly-zealous way of welcoming 'guests' to his district. Sai gave his neck a final courtesy rub, checking to see that there was no lingering mark from the tip of a sword. Because of how pale his skin was, every little blemish had a tendency to stand out.

And because of how immaculately organized his apartment was—remarkable, really, given how many paintings were strewn about—anything that was amiss there _also_ had a tendency to stand out. And something was _certainly_ amiss. Across the room, lying upon the center of a waist-high table with a surface about as large as a stool's seat, there was an odd bloom. A flower, fanned out like a daisy with faded purple petals. He hadn't noticed it when he first walked in, which meant that it wasn't _there_ when he walked in. His eyes drifted to the nearest window, which was covered by a dark drape; it was still closed. Somebody had come in, but when? _How_? He shut his eyelids and counted his preparations in his head: _1...2..._ _ **3**_ _!_ With a sudden slash through the air, the brown-painted brush in his right hand became a versatile weapon. Sai forced chakra through the wooden handle to grant life to the pigment that dripped from its tip. What began as a few simple flecks of color sailing harmlessly through the air from the swinging bristles quickly transformed into orbs of sticky, chakra-infused homing devices. With almost instantaneous response time, the growing brown spheres zipped through the rectangular apartment with an audible hiss, weaving swiftly around one particular easel, converging behind it in a coordinated pincer maneuver to reveal the location of the intruder's hiding place.

Seeing the result, Sai raised a hand and formed a new seal; the globes had located their target, so it was time to activate them. Doing so meant ruining the unfinished painting which was being used as cover, but the sacrifice was worth the potential reward of punishing his foe—his home had been invaded, and he refused to stand for it. The thought of a filthy intruder's hands upon his works-in-progress brought his calm demeanor near a boiling point. Though, the sacrifice he had been willing to make never came to pass. A moment of confusion followed the theoretically-perfect execution of his planned attack. Sai's technique _should_ have caused each of the grape-sized, hovering brown balls to erupt with splashes of searing hot ink, and yet after the handsigns had been formed and the chakra was exerted, nothing happened. Sai grunted in quiet confusion as he heard a rapid procession of _tink, tink, tink,_ coming from the concealed corner as if marbles were hitting the floor...and so they were, Sai realized, as the once-viscous brown globs rolled like ball-bearings across his hard-wood flooring, each one coming to rest near his feet after emerging from somewhere in the darkness.

A voice sounded out, hollow and without a central location, as if it echoed off of six different places before reaching the artist's ears. "You've got impressive instincts, but maybe you should just relax...I've only come to deliver a brief message." The only thing Sai could tell about the voice was that it belonged to a woman; the tone, pitch, tempo, and inflections of her speech were all quite unfamiliar to him, otherwise.

He looked to the globes of impotent paint that touched his sandals harmlessly. When he turned back to the corner and took a step to the left to adjust his viewing angle, he could see a vague silhouette in the darkness—but it was dressed in a loose cloak, and wore a mask without features. The visage wasn't modeled after any particular animal, nor did it have any paint upon its face; there were no identifiable parts of any kind. _Of course not,_ Sai told himself obviously. _Even a mask can be recognized if it has unique features...More importantly than that, how did she neutralize my attack so easily?_ The intruder seemed true to her word, as she made no effort to attack him while he thought to himself. The silhouette moved to stand, and a visibly defined hand with one finger extended pointed toward the flower on the table.

"You'll be receiving a _generous_ and _important_ job offer very soon, Sai," she said with a knowledgeable intonation. "Consider that bloom to be a gift; some food for thought while you wait for the details to arrive..." As she spoke in a sing-songy way, she moved sideways, tucked behind a row of paintings as she inched toward the window as if to make an exit. The blank mask with two plain eye holes stayed pointed in Sai's direction. He thought about rushing her, but she was almost certainly prepared for that. She wouldn't have come _in_ if she hadn't been confident in her ability to escape just as easily. Most likely, a headfirst assault would put him in more danger than simply standing and observing. She was leaving after all, right?

"What _sort_ of job offer?" Sai prodded, eyes narrow and mouth flattened into an emotionless stare.

The woman snickered like a wild jackal and laid a hand on the frame of the nearest window, slipping the drape away and undoing the lock with a careful hand. "I'd hate to ruin the surprise, so you'll just have to wait and see..." She answered his question, though not to any level of satisfaction.

Sai felt himself getting frustrated. _Just a little further; make sure that she can't slip away from the area of effect,_ he told himself as he watched the window being opened up, creaking slightly toward the outside as the intruder cautiously crept through the gap. Just as one of her legs was slipping through the opening, Sai's hands came together with purpose to form four quick seals, activating a trap that had been laid within the window's framing wood and the immediate surroundings. The echoing snicker she had been puffing out suddenly stopped short, and it was replaced by a gasp of surprise as the black wood that framed the glass of the window seemed to come to fidgeting life. "I think you should know," Sai explained as chunks of the border cracked and broke free of the confines of their prison, leaving dozens of craggy pits and pockmarks in the structure. "The wood there is saturated with my ink, just like that part of the floor..." he clapped his hands to finish another set of seals, and that was when the flooring began to splinter as well, lifting pieces of itself to hover in a dome around the would-be escapee.

The shady figure seemed to know that she was properly trapped by the threatening spikes of wood, because she seized in place. "Wait a second!" she exclaimed with audible discomfort, raising her hands defensively to both sides of herself. "Before you do anything foolish, you should _really_ take a look at that flower..." Her head was turning in a slow circle upon her neck, and she was clearly seeing that the fragmented wood had moved to surround her; each piece was hovering in a strategic position; dozens of sharp points were aimed her way from all directions. It lingered both inside and outside of the window. There was no safe direction.

" _You_ did something foolish _long_ before now..." Sai expressed calmly, hands poised to finish the job at any moment. "When you intruded into my studio, you sealed your fate," he coldly hummed before he wove his hands together, triggering the wooden stakes to come together all at once via the influence of his ink, splintering the robed intruder from every direction. She had initially tried to avoid the swarm, but it was no use; she was entirely encompassed by the fragments. She let off a groan of pain before she couldn't manage any sound at all. Spikes ruthlessly jammed into her shoulders, arms, legs, and stomach; one even cracked through the center of her mask. Her body went limp and fell to Sai's floor, the edge of her slumped shoulder knocking into the base of an easel, causing the painting resting upon it to wobble slightly. Sai stepped over to lay his hand atop the canvas, ceasing its shaking. He tilted his head and narrowed his eyes as he looked down at his victim. She was...leaking. But it wasn't blood; it was water.

"A clone?" Sai wondered aloud, pressing his foot to one of the blackened wood stakes, jamming it further into the female body to test its resilience. With a sudden crash that was like shattering glass, the whole constitution of the clone fell apart into individual crystals, slowly melting down. "An _ice_ clone..." Sai realized as he studied the peculiar makeup of the intruder's 'body.' _Ice Release,_ he thought to himself. _Very rare; if this woman_ _ **is**_ _a part of Konoha, then she should be easy to locate based on personnel files..._

The female's voice echoed again, teasing her 'prey' as if he had followed her plan all along. "You're lucky I've got a sense of humor," she said as an echo; it originated from the clone. The creator was likely never there to begin with. "We'll be in touch," she whispered as a final farewell. Rather than linger as water on the floor, the clone began to evaporate into steam before dissolving into nothingness. Sai looked back over to the solid blobs of paint that had harmlessly rolled away earlier on; upon closer inspection, they glistened with cold. Frozen solid.

Sai grumbled; the woman had gotten away, but then again she was never at risk to begin with. A very annoying tactic. Curiosity bid him to look upon the nearby table at the flower she had brought as 'food for thought.' There was nothing _immediately_ special about it as it laid upon the table, but Sai noticed upon closer inspection that the severed bloom was resting upon a small piece of paper. Cautiously, Sai picked up the flower to behold the slip beneath it, fully expecting it to be an explosive tag—but it wasn't. It was a receipt. He read the details and felt a sense of anger come over him. The message itself was vague, but the audacity of the threat was very clear.

The severed flower-head came from the Yamanaka Clan's shop. Sai clutched the petals in his gloved hand and brought his other palm together with it to grind the delicate texture up, letting the shredded petals fall to the ground. "Now you've _really_ made a mistake..." he murmured into the night. There was no response from the former intruder. Sai almost felt himself turning giddy as he grasped the enormous miscalculation of his opponents. Sure, his apartment had been infiltrated and his skirmish with the clone had been a fruitless struggle—Ice Release wasn't just rare, but extremely powerful—but their plan to intimidate Sai was going to backfire in a spectacular way. "You think that you can get to me by threatening Ino," he said to himself in the lonesome apartment, "but all you've done is given me more information about your movements...I wonder if Ino would remember the person who was given this receipt. I'm sure that's information which Sasuke Uchiha will probably _love_ to hear, as well." Sai wondered briefly if the arrogant woman had any _idea_ about his formal involvement with the demigod survivor of the Uchiha clan. Naruto was dangerous enough already, but he was a bomb—wildly effective, yet with a ton of excess damage. Difficult to deploy in friendly territory. Sasuke, though...he was precise; a needle. A very, _very_ powerful needle.

Sai took a slow breath, calming his adrenaline. The encounter had been brief, but unexpected. He got to wondering about what their _next_ mistake would be; would they overestimate the effectiveness of their threat? Exactly what sort of role did they expect him to play in their schemes? He hoped to learn a great deal about 'them' in the coming weeks. With the immediate threat dispatched, Sai decided to take a little bit of extra time before reporting for guard duty. In order to properly relax his muscles after the burst of action, he returned his paintbrush to his palette and retrieved more brown paint. With another pass, the sunflowers were beginning to _look_ finished, but there was a lot more that needed to be done before they were _just right._ After all, that field of flowers was going to be a gift for Ino Yamanaka once it was 'complete.' Such a valued recipient would never be given anything less than _perfection_.

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 **Thank you very much for reading! I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Please let me know what you thought about it. As always, if you have any questions, feel free to PM me or leave a signed review. I always respond to questions as quickly as possible. Thanks again, and see you next time!**


	34. Having a Family

**Enjoy!**

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Hinata and Sasuke walked together through the ruins of the Uchiha's past. Splashes of unsaturated color sometimes jutted out from the gray-black sea to remind onlookers that there was once a thriving community there. Washed out reds, blues, and greens had been faded by sun and rain but hadn't completely disappeared from the walls and doors that survived as flattened pathways. Sasuke ensured that his companion was at his side, hand clutched in his own with determination to keep her there. She was equally driven, her hand smaller but no less certain. The sun was gone, and night was upon them—the moon was only just beginning to rise, its form waning ever so slightly from fullness after the previous night. The cycle had peaked, and the illumination was now beginning to recede as part of its natural life span. Still, it was magnificently bright, and it shone confidently through the scattered clouds to lay beams of silver upon the craggy ground.

"Sasuke, what was it like growing up here...?" Hinata asked, not worried about driving him into depression. She could see by the smile on his face that he had been reminiscing, and she wanted to talk about it. There were endless depths that she wanted to explore, and she searched for happiness wherever the dour young man seemed to show it. "What were your parents like? The community? Did people get along?"

Sasuke hummed pleasantly, looking down a hollowed corridor as he passed it; two walls that stood side by side, though they only reached waist height and were slanted like a trapezoid's edges. "It was a kind place; a _good_ place. We were united as a clan, and we worked together to keep each other happy. We were all part of a single, complete family." He tilted his head back slightly and allowed a passing breeze to take his hair for a ride. "I used to come home and be greeted by the old and young alike; they'd wave to me, and I'd wave back. We all knew one another by name, and this place was more than just a district to live in. It was the core of our identity." He had momentarily stopped to look down the ruined hallway, but he turned his head from its skeletal remains and continued walking around the border of his domain; the village's all-surrounding, monstrously high wall was only a few paces to his left, and the crumbling debris was piled up at its thickest density along the edge. "We were like our own village on the outskirts, with shops, restaurants, and a temple that we all shared."

Hinata listened and imagined; she could easily picture a bustling community there, if it were still intact. Signs existed amidst the rubble, torn in half and covered in dust but still inviting people into a place that no longer existed to share a cup of tea. She imagined people who were old and young, serious and playful. The Uchiha Clan had built a reputation as unfeeling, merciless soldiers who were strict and concise. She had never really imagined before that they were complex people just like those of her own clan—each member was unique and multifaceted. The stories didn't match the reality for the Uchiha Clan, she realized. It was just like her first impression after hearing tales and rumors about Sasuke, and how woefully incomplete the initial picture had turned out to be. "It must have been gorgeous," Hinata whispered, leaning her head nearer to Sasuke's shoulder, bringing her other hand over so she could grip Sasuke's with both of hers.

"It was the most beautiful place in the world back then," Sasuke confirmed, holding a smile filled with sappy remnants of happier days. He was reliving the _good_ moments, one at a time. Hinata's warmth and encouragement made it so much easier for the pleasant recollections to rise to the surface between all the painful reminders. If Sasuke had been by himself, the thoughts of his smiling clansmen would have simply turned to images of their cold, dead bodies—but with Hinata there, he could focus on the glimmering friendliness that twinkled in the eyes of his memories, and he could feel the genuine wholesomeness of the inviting voices that echoed through his ears. 'Come have a bite to eat with us, Sasuke!' they might have said, and he would enthusiastically agree. He was a kid, once. He was happy, then. And with Hinata by his side, he could finally admit to himself that he was happy _again_ , despite his worries. "Back then, I had friends and family for what felt like miles around me."

"Don't you _still_?" Hinata asked him, sheepishly smiling in his direction. "Maybe you're having a rough time, but we're _all_ your family here in Konoha. Some of us just haven't gotten used to you being around again, since you were gone for so long. That's all it really is."

Sasuke gave an amused grunt, shaking his head and clicking his tongue behind his teeth. "No, it's a lot more than _that_ , but I appreciate the sentiment." He clutched her hand more tightly, running his thumb lazily across the back of her fingers. "They don't trust me, and it's completely understandable."

Hinata gave a reluctant nod. He had _earned_ their distrust, and it was definitely much harder to repair trust than it was to break it to begin with. And she knew that Sasuke was aware of that, so she felt no need to say it aloud. "Despite that, you've proven to me that you're a good person, and you belong here without a doubt."

Sasuke couldn't deny it anymore; he _did_ belong in Konoha. With a gracious nod, he thanked Hinata silently for helping him realize it. "And I don't intend to leave again; not like before."

Hinata tilted her head and let out a little sound of protest. "Not like before...but you _will_ leave again...?"

"Well, sure," Sasuke answered, slightly flustered by the pleading in Hinata's voice as she peered up at him. She didn't want him to leave at _all_. "I mean, I'd like to take a trip from time to time...and there might be missions that need to be completed. I'll leave, but I'll always come back—that's what makes it different, right?"

Hinata blushed; she had somehow forgotten that 'leaving' didn't necessarily mean 'disappearing.' She cleared her throat and turned her head away from him, trying to gather her dignity back up. "R-right," she stumbled on her words. Both of her hands were clamped on Sasuke's, and she didn't want to peel one of them away, so she allowed the breeze to stripe her hair across her face when she turned her head. "Was your father strict, Sasuke?" She pondered, trying to find more ways to relate to him.

Sasuke blinked, looking at the back of Hinata's head until she turned to point one eye at him, the other still hidden behind her hair as it laid along her nose. He chuckled and gave a short nod. "Yes, he was...very strict. I never got to know him as well as I would have liked. I never really got to talk to him how I wanted to; I was always busy trying to show off, to _impress_ him. He had high expectations of me; and of Itachi, too. We were his children, thus the inheritors of the clan, by birthright. Back then, I had always imagined that Itachi would be the one to eventually become the head, but it seems like the responsibility is mine by default." He sighed through his nose and reaffirmed his grip on Hinata's hand. "My father is long gone, but _yours_ is still here. It's not too late for you to change things. If you want my advice, don't close yourself off to him, and don't let _him_ close himself off to _you_. I think that my biggest regret in all my life is that I never forced my father to talk to me honestly. I always left it up to somebody else to talk to him on my behalf; whether it was through my mother or Itachi, I never took personal responsibility for my relationship with him. Because of that, I'll never know what he really thought of me...of _us_. I only really know what I've been told by others."

She hadn't expected to relate with him _that_ much. She nervously smiled and took one hand from his, finally wiping her hair out of the way and then resting her palm hand against her cheek as if to comfort herself. "That's...I don't think I'd ever be able to get my father's attention, even if I wanted to. He wasn't always like this, though. As a child, he trained me himself, and he oversaw my sparring with Neji." She frowned with the memory of what came next. "Then Hanabi surpassed me, and he took her on as the heiress. He handed me off to Kurenai-sensei in a way that made me think that he didn't care whether I lived or died."

Sasuke narrowed his eyes. He had known small bits of the story, but not the full extent. "Maybe he trusted that Kurenai would be able to protect you; she's one of Konoha's strongest Jonin, right?"

Hinata shrugged her shoulders weakly. "She is, but I don't think Father cared whether or not she protected me. His efforts on my behalf, every kind thing he's ever said to me since then, I think he does it out of obligation...his way of keeping up appearances. Hanabi and Ko try to stick up for me, but he never sways. And when _I'm_ the one to talk to him, he brushes me off and looks away from me; it's like he can't bear the thought of giving me even the slightest consideration."

"I don't think that's the truth," Sasuke said with a quiet smirk. He shook his head slowly, causing his hair to sway from side to side while it hung down over his cheeks. "No, I think your father is like mine...it's not that he doesn't care, it's that he resents weakness."

Hinata huffed. "Then he resents me because I'm weak?"

"I don't know him personally, but I wouldn't be surprised he resents _himself_ for weakness." Sasuke was reaching, a bit—but he could relate to the idea. His self-disgust toward his inability to defeat Itachi had turned him soulless. He had blamed his fluctuating emotions for making him weak, and so he sought to shut them out. Without Naruto there to show him that strength could exist while still embracing love and affection, Sasuke couldn't guess where he might have ended up. Maybe he would be exactly where Hiashi Hyuuga was. "He'll be stubborn, but I think you should try to get through to him. If you really want him to acknowledge you, you're going to have to take him out of his comfort zone."

Hinata blinked in thought. "His comfort zone? What do you mean?"

Sasuke smirked down to her. "After you win the General Tier, he won't be able to deny your strength any longer. At that point, prove to him that you're not afraid. Challenge him to a fight. Force his hand if you need to; it doesn't have to be public, but it _does_ need to happen. People who thrive on strength only understand communication if it comes off the edge of a fist."

Hinata had to admit that she liked the idea, even though she was absolutely sure that she would never be a match for her father in combat. "I take it that you know this from experience, Sasuke?" She took a little jab at him with her elbow, nudging him playfully with a challenging little smirk.

Sasuke blushed a little and turned his head, hmphing and shrugging one shoulder. "Yeah, well...it wasn't my proudest moment, but Naruto's knuckles sure do have a lot to say. If you still look up to him, take that lesson to heart."

Hinata thought for a moment. Did she still look up to Naruto? Well, of course she did. Even though she had spent the past few months in a state of depression and turmoil, she had never stopped respecting Naruto as a person. She felt selfish for being angry with him in the first place; what right did she have to take him to task about who he had fallen in love with? She didn't resent him, nor hold bitterness toward him anymore—though there was still a minor ache in her heart, leftovers from her sorrow. Every day, the sensation got smaller, but it was still there like a mosquito occasionally sucking a little bit of blood from the corner of her earlobe. Annoying, but by the time she was able to swat it away, the damage was already done. Come winter, the mosquitoes would be gone. Maybe the scar left by unrequited love would go along with them. With a resolute nod, she confirmed that she still admired him: "I _do_ still respect Naruto, but I don't want to raise my fists toward my father...he already shuns me. Challenging him like that would only make it worse, right?"

Sasuke ground his molars together briefly in thought. It was a gamble; he was honestly just _assuming_ that Hiashi was in the same line of thought that Sasuke himself had once been in. It felt like a relatively safe bet, figuring 70/30 odds in favor of it being true. But the thirty percent chance was a bit more of a margin than he was comfortable with. "Well, look at it this way—in the worst case scenario, he shuns you even more than he already does. What will actually change, in that situation?"

Hinata stopped walking, and Sasuke stopped alongside her. "Well...when you put it that way, I don't know what else to say. I just don't think I have it in me. I don't want to fight my own family."

Sasuke gave a nod; he understood her reservations. "Well, let's see how you feel about it once the tournament is over. Maybe battling with Hanabi—if she even _makes it_ as far as you do—will give you a new appreciation for expressing yourself through combat."

Hinata suckled on her bottom lip while she considered it. "I've never really looked at fighting that way...to me, strength has always been a tool to prove that I'm capable, or to protect somebody I care about. Is it really okay to fight as a substitute for talking?"

"For some people, that's the _only_ way. Think of it like another language; sometimes, words by themselves won't be enough to get through to somebody who _needs_ to listen." Sasuke looked ahead and saw something in his path, and it filled him with a degree of sadness. He kept his tone optimistic, though; for _her_ sake. He gently, nonchalantly changed course, steering away from the trajectory that would have taken him through his ruined home. "When you become strong enough, you'll communicate with your _spirit_ whenever you strike. The Hyuuga Clan's combat style has always been about linear movements and practicality; you wield a highly technical move set with very little room for deviations and improvisation. It's representative of the clan's overall beliefs; strength, grace, and unwavering conviction. You have those traits, Hinata, but you're much _deeper_ than that as well. Your father may not be able to understand you because of that. Your natural, ingrained kindness might be a different language to him; one that he isn't able or willing to understand."

Hinata furrowed her brows and pouted a little, looking ahead and focusing on nothing in particular. "So...what you're saying is that the reason we've been working on improving my fighting style...is because it will help me to 'communicate' with my father?"

Sasuke chuckled. "Well, that's not how it started...I _was_ trying to help you against your sister, at first." He put on a rather serious expression, his face turning to stone. "But she's no longer a worthy goal for you, Hinata." His eyes turned to her, sharp and expectant. "You're becoming too strong for her; in a month, when the tournament starts, you're going to be _far_ too skilled. She won't be able to compete with you."

This declaration came as something of a shock to Hinata, the girl who had lost a high-stakes battle just one night before. She still felt the tiniest prickle of soreness in her shoulders and upper thighs from the exertion. "What do you mean, 'too powerful?'" She looked to the back of her hand, and she flexed her fingers as if to study her own muscles. Her other hand, needless to say, was still firmly entwined with her teacher's. "Is that even possible?"

"You're learning fast, and your body is keeping pace with your technical improvements surprisingly well. I knew from the start that you had potential, Hinata, but you're surpassing my early expectations." Sasuke was grinning confidently, and he was definitely being honest. Hinata would have seen the little crookedness in his lips if he had been giving her false encouragement. She was starting to learn his mannerisms, day by day, as she prodded him to say more and more.

"If that's true, then...why did I lose last night?" Hinata asked, still doubting what she was being told. It sounded too good to be true, given the circumstances.

"You were losing because your opponent was a monster," Sasuke replied without thinking very hard. It was an easy answer for him to give, because it was the true reason. "Had you been in the same condition as you were before we started training, even _I_ might not have been fast enough to save you from him. Because you've become so strong, though, you nearly took him down all on your own. I think that you underestimate your own strength because you haven't had the means to compare your current self to who you were when we began. When you get a chance to spar with an old friend, take it easy—you'll hit harder than you expect." He chuckled quietly as he walked. "You haven't noticed your growth because I've been matching myself to keep pace with your abilities...every day, you're stronger than the one before it, but our sparring remains the same. That's why you don't realize how tremendously you've improved."

"I think, if I'm really becoming as strong as you say, then it's just because you're a _very_ good teacher," Hinata acquiesced with patented modesty. She dug the front of her foot into a spot of soft rubble, shyly turning her heard toward it and shifting her focus away from the conversation. Sasuke _was_ going to respond to that, but rather than allow him to dig any deeper into her own theoretical strength, Hinata diverted to talking about the district they were surrounded by. "Sasuke, tell me more about what it was like here. Did you have a favorite place to hang out?"

Sasuke was mid-breath when she cut him off, and he could tell that the subject was making her feel somewhat strange. With grace, he answered her question. "Sure I did," he said with a gentle hum. "But it's not gone; that place is still standing. My favorite place to be, other than home, was out in the woods with Itachi. I used to love watching him practice his techniques from a hiding place. My brother could throw a shuriken in ways that you wouldn't _believe_ , Hinata."

"You looked up to him, then?" She asked, visibly thankful that the subject was changed away from her strength. All that talk about challenging her father had been giving her delusions of grandeur. _Best to stay grounded in reality_ , she figured. "You mentioned that you were riding on his back the last time you were happy. I guess that you two were close, before..." She trailed off hesitantly, "before ' _it_ ' happened?"

Sasuke shook his head, but he had to admit a certain truth to what she said. "Not as close as I wanted to be, but yes...we used to spend a lot of time together, before he grew more and more distant. We used to play hide and seek in the forest, we'd hunt together, or we'd just talk among the trees. We'd sometimes train together, too, but of course he went easy on me. Every day, he'd carry me home after I wore myself out. Once he joined up with the ANBU Black Ops, though, he changed— _everything_ changed."

Hinata shook her head as if to scatter those thoughts to the wind. "Well for now, let's not focus on the change...I want to go back to the good times, okay? What were your favorite sweets as a kid?"

Rolling his head along his neck to loosen himself up, Sasuke ended with his eyes on the ground. "I've never cared much for sweets...though there was _one_ type I used to love." He turned to look to the right, far beyond the ruins and above the pit that was Konoha; lights shone into the misty atmosphere to create a soft, hazy glow. "Hard candy; cherry flavored. Something about it called to me, when I first saw it in its wrapper...maybe because it was round and red and reminded me of the Sharingan..." He snickered, recalling the taste of the candy the first time he put it in his mouth. It was bigger, back then; nearly made it so that his jaw couldn't close. Rather, he was a very small child, and quite frankly it was a choking hazard. Not that he cared about such trivial things. "I actually found one of those candies, the exact same taste, the day after I came back to the village. The very same person still ran the very same shop, though in a different place."

There was brightness in Hinata's eyes, like always, but it seemed more cheerful than ever. Such a simple thing had lifted her spirits so high. "Was it as good as you remembered it?" She asked him hopefully.

"Better," Sasuke admitted while running his tongue along the underside of one of his molars; he remembered crunching the candy to get rid of it before Sakura or Naruto might have seen. Since that day, he felt like some of its sticky mass should have been stuck between his teeth someplace. Surely it would have dissolved by then, right? Still, he subconsciously probed around just in case. "What about you, Hinata? Do you like sweets?"

She nodded enthusiastically. "Oh yes, I like cake quite a bit. Yellow cake with chocolate frosting; I think I'd call that my favorite."

"Cake has always been too _sweet_ for me; the frosting ends up making me feel queasy by the time I finish a slice. I haven't actually _eaten_ cake in years," Sasuke waded through the simple conversation, enjoying the commonplace simplicity of being able to talk with the girl at his side about unimportant things. "There was cake at the wedding. I didn't have any, but did you?"

Hinata paused for a moment in speech and breath, but her feet kept lazily stepping forward, continuing the stroll. She spoke again when she realized that the expected dread never rose up in her gut. "I wasn't really in the mood for cake, then. I had one bite, but then it...I don't know, it made me _sad_ ," she said quietly. "That's when I walked out of the party. The next day, my wonderful little sister took me out to eat, trying to cheer me up. I wasn't in the mood for cake _then_ , either. It just reminded me of the wedding, at that point." She should have been sad, but she couldn't be. "It's funny, Sasuke...thinking about the wedding doesn't bring a tear to my eye anymore." She glanced at him with bliss on her features. "It makes me happy, actually...because that's the night I met you, really _met_ you, for the first time..."

"I feel the same way," Sasuke answered, and it was true. The wedding had changed from a dark spot in his heart to a bright one, one twinkle at a time. Rather than a cloud of rain, the memory resembled a shining star. "Sadness is a terrible reason to avoid cake, though," he said with a playful tilt of his head. "Maybe you should try again tomorrow; we can go _together_ for some cake. It might taste better now that the tears have been wiped away."

Hinata perked up, but she had qualms. "Tomorrow? What about your arm, and even your photo shoot?" Hinata pondered, admitting inwardly that she was tempted by the offer, despite its conflictions. Maybe she _could_ stomach some cake so long as Sasuke would be there to keep her negative memories from overflowing. "It's a fantastic suggestion, but...tomorrow may not be the best day. You're going to be so busy."

Sasuke grumbled, having nearly forgotten about his obligation to the photographer. Knowing Sai and Kakashi's combined efficiency, the appointment had already been made. It wouldn't be a good look if he were to miss his scheduled appearance. "Maybe you're right about that," he begrudgingly admitted. "It can be another time, then. No need to hurry."

"In that case, I'll look forward to the day, Sasuke," Hinata sweetly chirped, leaning herself against his arm again and nudging her cheek against his bicep. "Maybe we could bring Hanabi, too..." she suggested somewhat tentatively. "She may act like a brat, but she definitely admires you."

"Admires me?" Sasuke raised his brow, peering down at the elder Hyuuga sister. "I think she's _suspicious_ of me, if anything."

"She gets like that sometimes; don't let her snooping worry you too much. She's naturally curious, which is why she's so irresponsible with her Byakugan sometimes." Hinata felt her voice change as if she were making excuses for her nosy sibling, and she cleared her throat. "Anyway, it was just a thought. She probably wouldn't have the time to join us, regardless."

"Actually, I think that's a good idea," Sasuke said, very nearly surprising himself by the way he announced it with such confidence. "If you want to bring her along, why not? She seems _entertaining_ , if nothing else," Sasuke teased with a sly smirk.

"She _is_ entertaining," Hinata echoed with a nod, "because she's cramped up at home a lot of the time. When she gets out, she tends to cut loose. I love her more than anything, but I know she can be a handful. Are you sure you want to put up with her?" Hinata wanted to hear him say 'yes'. She wanted to know that he was genuinely willing to make more connections to the village.

"I've dealt with worse," Sasuke answered with an amused flex of the corner of his mouth. "How about this, Hinata?" Sasuke formulated, pursing his lips in thought. "The festival is taking place three weeks from now. We've already talked about going together, and I'm sure there will be plenty of places to find cake around there...we can wait until then. That way, having cake will be a sort of celebration after your successful training. Your father will probably let your sister out of the house for at least _one_ day during all the activity, so she can probably come with us, too."

"He _should_ let her go, but I can't really be sure," Hinata mumbled, lifting a hand to poke her thumb against her chin. "We'll see how things go," she mused, then she abruptly turned, opening her arms wide and throwing them around Sasuke's waist, hugging him from the side. "Thank you, Sasuke," she whispered into the side of his vest as if tears were beginning to form along her eyes. _He's willing to bring Hanabi along_ , she thought pleasantly. It may have seemed like an insignificant turn, but accepting another person's company was a meaningful step for him to take toward reaching out to the village. Start small, Hinata postulated. Hanabi already knew about their little 'secrets,' so there was no risk inherent in letting her stick close by. Furthermore, as Hinata's sister, Hanabi was similar in some ways to a person whom Sasuke already trusted. A perfect stepping stone, in addition to the core fact that Hinata really wanted Sasuke to get along with her family. "We'll have a great time together, all three of us!" she exclaimed in a promising way as she nudged her face under his arm playfully.

Sasuke chuckled down at her and gave her upper back a gentle pat, then his hand laid a flat rub back and forth while pulling her into a cradle against his side. "Yeah...I think we will," he warmly uttered at a volume that was beneath the hum of a bee. And when he spoke, he believed himself.

They walked in silence after that, sharing in one another's warmth as the night grew cooler under the stars. Aimlessly, they seemed to wander in every direction, traveling paths that no longer led anyplace. With the moon on the rise, the night was in full swing. Sasuke's arm was around Hinata's shoulders, and Hinata's arm was slung around his waist. They were close, tied together around the hip despite the height difference between them. Hinata frowned a bit as she spoke, but they were words that needed to be said. "I think it's time for me to get home; some of the clan will probably be up waiting for me. Hanabi, and Ko at least...especially after last night."

Sasuke gave a single nod, understanding perfectly well. "Then I'll take you home," he answered soothingly, letting thoughts run through his head about how proud he was of himself to have kept his lips to himself for so long. She was addictive in every sense of the word; each method of closeness had its unique charms and overwhelming pleasures, but thus far his favorite thing had been the kisses they shared. The heat, the intensity, the flavor, the physical sensation of touch—it all added up to be a dangerous drug, a mix that threatened to swallow all of his rational thought. Though, despite the comparisons that could be drawn to toxic substances, he did not feel that _this_ addiction was a bad thing. Hinata was a distraction, but in all honesty he was having trouble deciding which part of his life was _truly_ important, and which was the distraction. When he thought about Hinata, he felt more and more like _she_ was his sole purpose. With those thoughts in mind, Sasuke's arm sprouted out from his left stump, the temporary limb being crafted out of metal and wires, technology that existed on a plane of its very own. Sasuke himself didn't fully understand how the mechanics of his constructs actually worked, but his eye was capable of harnessing them all the same. He didn't question his own capabilities; questions bred hesitation, and hesitation became defeat.

And so he did not hesitate to scoop Hinata up into a piggyback ride, aided by the young woman's own little hop and a sweet smile as she nestled onto the slope of his shoulders and arched back muscles. Her legs wrapped around Sasuke's hips, and she laid her chin against his shoulder, letting her lips tenderly touch along his neck after she nudged between some thick black locks. His skin was warm, and she loved the way it brushed against her nose and mouth. Her cheeks and chin would wind up mashed against his cloth-covered shoulder, which was a comfort all its own. Her arms were wrapped around his chest, locking her fingers at the same place where the halves of his ribcage would intersect. She was locked in place, and she felt the underside of one of her thighs being clutched by a cold set of fingers, while the other received the warmth of his natural right hand. Again, the sensation felt strange, but not altogether unpleasant. Despite her contentment with how things already were, she blushingly looked forward to feeling two _warm_ hands upon her.

As the woman braced herself against him, Sasuke gave one quick check for her stability, bobbing himself up and down to test the way she shook. There wasn't much give, and she was clamped onto him at the top and bottom of her height. "Hold on tight," he warned as he bent his knees and prepared to bolt off.

As she felt him prepare, Hinata knew that she was solidly held, and she whispered into his ear with trembling anticipation. " _Go_."

* * *

The village had become a blur; Sasuke's speed was unbelievable. Hinata was a ninja, too, but she had never felt the wind in her face the way she did when Sasuke carried her that night. The last time she rode under his protection, he was taking it easy—caring for her injured frame. This time, though, he seemed to want to show off. Despite the blistering quickness, she felt no bugs hit her face, nor any stray particles of rock or leaf catching in her hair. He was able to avoid any and all obstacles as he flowed from roof to roof in a seemingly-straight line. He outran the sound of his own footsteps, so much so that the only noise Hinata could hear was the stifled excitement of her own gasping and the wind as it flooded her ears. She wondered if a hawk felt the same rush whenever it dove to catch a fish from the river. The journey seemed to last for only a short moment, and maybe it _was_ that quick after all. By the time Hinata's surroundings had materialized again from their multi-colored, tunnel-shaped mass, she felt dizzy. She shook off that disorientation when she realized where she was—atop the roof of her home, dead center of the compound for her entire clan. She let her mouth hang open in something like shock—she knew he was fast, but she had no idea _how_ fast until then. Even after that moment, she had a feeling that he could have gone even faster if he had wanted to. Did that man have any limits at _all_? When she tried to speak, she realized that some of her hair had gotten caught in her mouth during the trip, and she spit it out messily while she started to climb off of Sasuke's back, finding the shingles of her roof beneath her feet.

"We're here," Sasuke said with a smirk, guiltily pleased by the way she shuddered against his back and in his hands during the trip. He turned his head over his shoulder to look at her face, all disheveled and pale from the sudden lurch of position. "Did I move too fast...?" he prodded her with a tease.

Hinata reached a hand up to cover her cheek, taking two steps to the left and to the right to ensure that she had regained her balance. "T-that was..." she shivered, recalling the sense of speed. She wanted to feel it again, but she was already home. It would have been selfish to ask for another ride, wouldn't it? "It was incredible, Sasuke," she looked up at him and stepped close, wrapping a hand around his, then putting her other hand behind his head to pull him down. She pecked a kiss onto his cheek, a sweet, innocent little 'thank you' before the night was over. She felt suddenly prudish, surrounded by the home of her family, filled with potentially-snooping eyes. The small tap of her lips did exactly what she hoped, regardless. Sasuke was colored along the cheeks, perhaps by the contrast of that simple innocence to the steaming hot togetherness from earlier. Had they both realized how risque they had allowed things to become? Should they try to slow down? _Could they_ slow down? Likely not.

Sasuke kept his smile through his blush; nobody but her could see it. "Have a good night, Hinata—and remember to take the day off tomorrow. I'll be very busy, like we discussed..." Busy indeed; he would first need to consult the person who could replace his arm, then from there he would need to make it happen as quickly as possible. Depending on the procedure involved, he could even be _late_ to the photo-shoot after sunset. All of that was assuming that his intended surgeon was even _willing_ to help him, and further assuming that the arm that had been prepared for him was still ready for use. A lot of questions piled on top of one another to make him doubt every step of the next day's planning. No matter; he was going to work with what he got. "But," he hummed after thinking, "if I _do_ have time to see you, would you like me to check in?"

Hinata nodded, "That would make my day a lot better, I think," she said bashfully. She couldn't help but feel the incongruity between her behavior now as compared with earlier. How could she still be so shy? Had she already forgotten about her enthusiasm while she straddled his lap? The very image in her mind called a heavy blush to her cheeks. She had _definitely_ gotten carried away, but she simply couldn't help it. There was no possibility of fighting the tug that brought her close to Sasuke Uchiha. So long as her family never saw her 'wild side,' she decided that she could live with the dichotomy of it. Sasuke brought a lot of things out from within her, things she found both pleasant and shameful...but was her passion really something to be ashamed of? "T-thanks for today, Sasuke. I had a great time talking with you, and..." she swallowed a lump in her throat. " _You know_." She licked her lips carefully, wetting them to keep them from cracking underneath her dry, quiet gasps. "I hope your day goes well tomorrow."

Sasuke brought his hand up as his left arm dissolved back into nothingness. It was a reflex, like opening or closing a fist. He could summon and dismiss the metallic limb at will—but the thought of no longer _needing_ to do it was admittedly an exciting one. He could deal with his moral quandaries on another day. He wanted to be _complete_ , if not just for his own sake, then for Hinata's as well. She wanted to see him made whole, and he wanted nothing more than to make her happy—so of course he needed to become whole. The relationship was mutually beneficial in that way. "Sleep well tonight, Hinata," he began, raising his hand and closing half of a fist. His pointer and middle fingers stayed extended, and with an easy shift of his arm, he let those two fingers press against Hinata's forehead in a light 'tap.' "Until next time," he whispered, then abruptly disappeared, leaving behind a cloud of dusty shingles at his feet, and a dot of warmth above Hinata's brow that was slow to cool.

She stood there in a trance until the very last degree of transferred heat had been sapped from her skin. She gulped as the overwhelming sensations of the day began to trickle down into her longer-term memory deposits. Every pleasant moment spent with Sasuke seemed to gently replace a moment of sadness that had been created during her sorrow at the loss of Naruto's potential love. "Next time," she whispered into the wind and rose her hand to her forehead, touching the spot with two of her own fingers as if to replicate the impact. It had been gentle, but it felt so solid. Like he was laying all of his affection onto that single point. She was sweating around that spot, the result of nerves and giddiness. She was searching her surroundings for Sasuke's presence, but as expected, he was properly gone. In a flash, she was alone on the roof, just above her own room. She took a few fluid steps along the shingles, then sat herself down along the edge of the slanted overhang. She looked down at the grass that grew beneath her perch, and further beneath the overhang there was a wooden porch that surrounded the entire building. The structure was traditionally designed, not as modern as many of the other districts which had been rebuilt. It was familiar while still feeling new.

Along that wooden walkway that rested about a half-meter above the ground level, Hinata heard feet plodding along in a few directions on other sides of the house. She allowed her own feet to sway as they dangled down, her knees locked against the gutter. She was enjoying her place above the rest of her family—she felt like she belonged high in the sky, that night, and her eyes were open and turned up to the moon. Even as it shrank in its brightness, it was beautiful and inspiring. She leaned backward, allowing herself to lay upon the slanted rim of the roof with her arms spread out to either side of her, palms flat and facing the sky with her fingers open. She breathed easily, allowing her chest to rise and fall placidly. She should have felt terrible and unsafe, but after only one day since her near-death experience, she had been made to feel more sheltered and protected than ever before in her life. She wondered how quickly Sasuke would come if she were to cry out his name. She imagined that he would appear at her side before the last syllable had escaped her throat. Truth or not, the imagined protectiveness wrapped her like a cloak of softened autumn leaves.

One of the sets of footsteps had grown faster, and Hinata's ears flexed as if to zero in on the oncoming person. She triggered her Byakugan, using it sparingly to find the source of the sound through all the walls and the roof that separated her from it—she was driven by curiosity more than anything, and said curiosity was rewarded by the sight of Ko in a tizzy, rushing straight for her. He must have seen her on the roof with his own special eyes; worried, no doubt, because she had been late coming home again. He rounded the corner and stepped off of the encompassing porch to stand in the grass alongside the flowers and the gently trickling decorative pond that reflected the moon up into Hinata's eyes.

"Lady Hinata!" Ko gasped with a lack of breath, laying his hands on his knees and bending over slightly. "When did you return...? I've been waiting by the gate all night! You had me _worried;_ are you alright?" he looked up at her and saw that she was unharmed, and seemingly in very high spirits. The happiest she had been in months, as far as Ko had observed.

"Ko, it's alright," she answered him, kicking her feet back and forth as her knees bent along the ledge. "Sasuke brought me home...and nothing bad happened today." She was smiling, hoping to lessen the strain on her long-time bodyguard's mind. "In fact, it's been a very _good_ day," she enforced without saying anything further. The details weren't as important as how she _felt_.

Ko seemed skeptical at first, but there was no sign that she was lying to him or trying to hide a wound. "I see," he gulped his breaths down. He must have ran as fast as he could have on his way to her, and worn himself out along the way. Hinata couldn't help but giggle to herself about his genuine concern; he made her happy because of how much he cared, despite how little he really needed to worry anymore. He vocalized his worry like a checklist: "S-so there were no attacks? No suspicious behavior...?"

Hinata shook her head, pulling herself up from her back to sit upon her rear, clutching her hands onto the edge of the roof for stability as she leaned over. "Nothing at all, Ko. It's been a positively _beautiful_ day, and it's still a gorgeous night if you'd like to stay out for a while and watch the sky with me."

"Oh, you're not going to bed?" Ko seemed perplexed. It was late, and typically Hinata returned home exhausted. Not to mention her former injuries that seemed to completely vanish in less than twenty-four hours. He was confused, but he opted not to needle her too deeply.

"Actually, I had a nap...a very restful one in the shade," she was whispering, but Ko could hear her, because her lips were pointed directly at him. "I'll be up for a while longer—I've also been given the day off from training tomorrow, since Sasuke will be very busy with obligations to himself and the village."

Scratching the back of his head, Ko mumbled like he felt incompetent. "So you'll be staying home tomorrow?"

Hinata shrugged her shoulders softly. "I haven't decided yet; I might take the opportunity to see my team. I've missed them lately, and I know they've been worried about me."

Ko gave a nod, then followed up with a bow. "Very well, Lady Hinata. Is there anything you'd like? Something to eat, or drink?"

The young woman upon the roof shook her head. "No, but thank you. I'm satisfied for the night."

Ko was about to talk again, but when his mouth was opening, somebody else came into the discussion like a dart in the neck to distract him. The voice was high and feisty, familiar to both: "Hey wait, were you guys having a secret meeting without me!?" Hanabi landed on the roof behind Hinata after a long arc , arms folded onto her undeveloped chest, lips pouted out like she had been excluded from some clandestine conspiracy. "Are we talking about something important?"

Hinata closed her eyes and smiled patiently. "Not really, Hanabi," the older sister replied, tapping her fingers on the shingles. "Just about how the day went. How was yours, little sister?" She asked sweetly, turning her head to regard the rascal looming over her back.

Hanabi skidded down the roof on bare feet, stopping with one foot higher than the other while slanted at one leg. She peered down at Hinata with intrusive closeness, contorting her face in contemplation. "It was alright, I guess; not very special. Training, a little bit of talk, a lot of water." She laid her palm on her stomach with a light smack, as if to show a full belly, though she was flat and toned like her training justified. "Ko, what about you?" Hanabi turned her attention, then dropped to sit beside Hinata in an identical way, hanging her legs down and setting her elbows on her knees precociously to prop her chin in her hands.

"Well, I've...uh, been looking for _something_ I lost," Ko snickered nervously, hand still running along the back of his neck. "A-actually, nevermind, it's not all that important." He turned to face away from the sisters, trying to disappear in the darkness with the aid of the black robe he wore. "It's been a nice day. I'm glad that both of you are training hard—with this sort of determination, the Hyuuga family will certainly make a strong showing in the tournament." He gave a nod, then folded his arms in front of his waist. "Now, uh...I think I should get to bed. I've been up all night worrying."

Hanabi snickered and gave Hinata a pat on the shoulder, as if congratulating her on being some sort of unaware accomplice. The younger one spoke up, as she often did; she had a habit of being the more straightforward one between the pair. "Goodnight, Ko! It's been a blast talking with you, as always," she said with sweetness, though there was a little bit of bratty sarcasm baked into it. Ko nodded and trudged off, whistling to himself.

As soon as the guard was out of earshot, Hinata scowled mildly up at Hanabi. "I thought you were going to give his book back to him today," she whispered.

Hanabi shrugged. "What can I say? I didn't have enough time to finish it; I hate to rush an ending, you know? There's like twenty pages left, and if I read them all at once, then the story will be _over_. You never want a good story to end too fast, do you?" She winked, laying her head onto Hinata's shoulder. "Besides, that's enough talk about boring stuff..." Her whisper turned devilish, sharing a secret into Hinata's ear in a sing-song, adversarial kind of way. "I saw what you were doing with Sasuke today..."

Hinata immediately tensed, her shoulders stiffening in a way that knocked the edge of her bone against Hanabi's leaning jaw, knocking her abruptly away. "Y-y-you _saw...!?_ " she asked more loudly than she knew, but she didn't tone it down. She got up from her relaxed hang on the ledge and turned onto both of her knees, setting her hands on Hanabi's shoulders and forcing her to turn and look her in the eyes. "I-I promise I didn't know what I was thinking, I just...he was just...we were..." She was flustered, and Hanabi was looking right up at her with a dumbfounded expression. The little sister was rubbing her jaw where a shoulder had just given her a surprising thunk, and her brows were slanted with peculiar curiosity. Hinata took a shallow breath and calmed her nerves. "I mean...he was right there, and he was so warm, and...his lips were just _asking_ for me to touch them...so I kissed him, and that's all there is to it..." she blushed harshly, figuring that it was best to explain herself before Hanabi blabbered on her own. "And it felt really _good_ , so...I just sort of _kept doing it_ until I felt satisfied, you know...?" She brought a finger up to clamp Hanabi's lips when it seemed like the other was going to respond, and she shushed and shook her head. "N-no, just...don't tell anybody what you saw, o-okay? If Father were to find out, then...I think he would be upset."

Hanabi grabbed Hinata's hand by the wrist and pulled the finger away from her own mouth. She hadn't known all that, and her surprise was clear on her wide eyes and gaping jaw. "Hold on, Hinata, you mean to tell me that you were _kissing_ Sasuke all day!?"

Hinata blinked, realizing that she had outed herself. "Uh—uhm...n-no?" she stuttered unconvincingly. "I w-was just testing you...to see if you would...uh...lie about something you saw!" She nodded, trying to sell herself on the idea. Oh, she had blown it, hadn't she?

"Actually, all I _saw_ was that he was stroking your hair...and it looked pretty nice; you honestly made me jealous," Hanabi grinned wickedly. "But if you've been _making out_ with him since then, that's a _much_ nicer story." She saw that Hinata wasn't happy with her tone, so she raised a hand and waved it all off as a joke. "Come on, relax Hinata...kissing's just a natural thing guys and girls do when they're happy with each other, or girls and girls, guys and guys...it's not really an exclusive club. Everybody likes a good kiss from time to time." She rolled her eyes playfully. "Jeez, how sheltered _are_ you that you're so embarrassed about something as simple as that?" Hanabi thought for a moment, scratching her chin as she realized the redundancy of the question. "Erm, well...I guess the two of us are just about _equally_ sheltered, but anyway...remember that book I didn't give back to Ko? It's got a lot about kissing, and romance, and all that comes with it...I never figured a girl your age would be so awkward about that stuff, but I never really _asked_ , so it's my own fault. Maybe you really _should_ read that book; it could give you some ideas on how you can 'deal with' Sasuke, hmm?" She had a light of mischief on her teeth as she smirked.

Hinata felt like steam was coming out of her ears, with as hot as her cheeks were becoming. She looked away from Hanabi and focused on the koi pond below; one of the within was bubbling near the surface, molding a dark, round-shaped spot onto the reflection of the moon within the ripples. "I-I don't think I _need_ to read the book...I've got some idea of what's ' _involved_ '..." she began to awkwardly clutch the pants that clung to her thighs, squeezing and rubbing the skin beneath as if to appease some sort of heightened sensitivity of her flesh. "It's too early to be worrying about this kind of thing, anyway...we've only just started to get close to each other."

Hanabi grinned. "But you're definitely getting closer by the day, _riiiight_?" she wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. Her face was pushed playfully by Hinata's palm, nudging her out of the bubble of personal space she had been invading. Hanabi sat back down on her tush and yawned, tears in the corners of her eyes. "Anyway, where's he at now? Don't tell me he made you walk home all by yourself after what happened last night."

Hinata shook her head. "No, he didn't make me walk by myself. Actually, he just dropped me off here a few minutes ago."

Hanabi pouted again, looking jealous. "He could have at least said hi while he was here," she mumbled, blushing pathetically with her eyes turned to the bottom corner of her sockets.

"He doesn't want to cause problems for me, that's all...actually, he seems to _like_ you, Hanabi." Hinata laid a hand on Hanabi's shoulder—a tender one, not an aggressive one like before.

"He does?" Hanabi chittered, pursing her lips awkwardly. "Could've fooled _me_."

"Well, he's not very easy to read, but I can tell that you made a good impression on him. In fact, he even thinks it'd be a good idea to take you with us when we go to the festival together." She smiled impishly, then hushed her voice to a whisper. "Though, from time to time I'd like a chance to be alone with him...you understand, right?"

Clearing her throat, Hanabi nodded. "Yeah yeah, I get it. Smooching. You can count on me not to get in the way anymore, now that I know you're serious about it...and so's _he_."

A nod. "Yes, I think we're both becoming very sure about this...we've been trying to _fight it_ since we met, but the pull eventually just...overcame us. Now there's no way we can turn back. It's like we're connected now, magnets that keep pulling at each other no matter how much distance is between us. Even now, I think I can feel myself being tugged in that direction...like he's there, far away, waiting for me to come back to him."

Hanabi rolled her eyes a little; it was all sounding a bit too mushy for her tastes, even though she _did_ have a slight inclination toward the romantic side of things. "Spare me the details, sis." She thumbed the sleeve of her nightgown, a flowery yellow getup that billowed in every direction with extra fabric that blew in the breeze. "Well, spare me unless I ask. I'm nosy, you know." She winked, knowing her own faults and not apologizing for them.

"I'll keep that in mind," Hinata replied, smirking as she laid an arm around Hanabi's shoulders. "You're a great sister, Hanabi; I love you for that." Hanabi blushed in response and leaned into Hinata's gentle pull, yawning again.

"You too, sis," Hanabi whispered low and settled in, tucking her legs off to the side so she could properly lay against her sister's side. She dug around behind herself with one hand, retrieving something that had been tucked into the belt that was wrapped around her waist. It was an orange book; the one missing from Ko's library. She flopped the hard-cover onto Hinata's lap with a quiet wink.

Hinata sighed, laying a free hand on the cover in thought. She tentatively ran her fingers down the simplistic artwork; it depicted a man and woman running together on an empty orange background. They looked rather happy about it, too. Coming to her senses, Hinata shook her head and tried to pass the novel back to her sister. "Give it to Ko, Hanabi; it's not polite to steal things. I didn't think a girl of _your_ age would be confused about _that_ ," she sternly reprimanded with an intonation that was similar to Hanabi's earlier critique of her love life.

"I'm just borrowing it," Hanabi grinned, not affected by the tone her sibling took. "Actually, you should just _keep_ that one, then read it whenever you feel like you want to...I'll just buy a brand new copy tomorrow, then I'll finish reading that one and give it to Ko afterward. I'll say I found it lying somewhere around the compound. It's a big place; stuff gets lost, right?"

Hinata huffed and pulled her sister's head into a lock with a clamp of her elbow, like a pair of pliers lined by cloth and soft skin. Her other hand offered a noncommittal noogie, swirling the soft black hair in a harmless circle. "I know I said I love you, but you an be a real piece of work sometimes..."

Fussing half-heartedly, Hanabi squirmed in Hinata's grip and thrashed her legs dramatically. " _Hey, stop iiiit_ ," she stretched her demand out to the point of comically exaggerated resistance, because despite her protests she was laughing and grinning. As the little burst of motion settled down, Hanabi was freed of the headlock, then leaned her chin backward to soothe some tension in her neck, groaning with tiredness before flopping her back onto the roof. The uneven bumps of the shingles were actually pretty relaxing against her fatigued muscles. "I _should_ go to bed, but I think I'm too tired to stand..." she reached her hands up, flexing her fingers as if to urge Hinata to pick her up. "Carry me to my room, I'm too pathetic to make it on my own." She whined, but it was a devious sound rather than a pitiful one.

Hinata smiled and turned her back with an inviting sigh, and Hanabi clambered up with a flop, causing Hinata to grunt slightly beneath the impact. She stood, carrying the lovable brat just like Sasuke had carried her not long ago. "Alright, I'll take you to bed...but I'm _not_ reading you a story," she compromised jovially. It was good to have a family. Sometimes she wondered what it would have been like to lose _everyone_ precious to her, just like Sasuke once did, but she decided not to _ever_ dwell on those thoughts. She focused on the tiny weight against her back and the tickle of breath against the side of her shoulder. She was there; she was alive. She was loved. The Hyuuga Clan was strong, and she knew that it would _always_ be so.

* * *

 **I hope you liked this chapter! Let me know what you thought of it. As of this update, this story is now the longest thing I've ever written (with much, much more to go), passing 300,000 words (assuming the document manager upload is accurate). So, in regards to that milestone, I need to hand out another massive thanks to all of the people who keep reading, reviewing, following, favoriting, etc. Every notification I get in my email makes my day a lot brighter, even though these days are already pretty bright to begin with, despite being busy haha. Feel free to ask questions with a review, or through a PM—I'll always answer them if I can, just as long as you're not looking for spoilers. Next one will be coming as soon as I can get it done! See you then!  
**


	35. An Optimistic Day

**Enjoy!**

* * *

The next morning came, and Sasuke was ready for it. His windowless apartment didn't let the dawn through, but his eyes opened to the slender light peeking underneath the door in parted slivers. First he stretched his muscles under the covers, then he yawned as he tossed his sheets aside, flexing his right hand and the phantom limb of the left, the routine he performed every morning. _Today's the day,_ he thought to himself as the pain of his missing arm struck his numb body afresh; it did so every time he awoke from a pleasant sleep. He hadn't exactly planned ahead to make the sudden move to retrieve the limb that was once designed for him. Would it still be available? The answer would come soon enough, and with that thought in his head Sasuke stood out of bed on groggy legs and rubbed his eyes with his thumb, clearing the sleep. The night had been long—more and more, he encountered cries for help. He answered as many as he could, but there were always more than he could adequately deal with. He was powerful, surely, but even _his_ body needed to rest at night, lest it become weary and ineffective. In that way, Naruto was his superior—the jinchuriki could stay awake and fight for days, perhaps weeks, before ever needing to rest. Complements of the chakra monster that took residence in his gut.

Sasuke had seen the beast on a few occasions, both abstract and real. He had captured the thing for his own use, too; he knew the strength of the nine tails' chakra firsthand, and it was not a power to be trifled with. Still, when it came down to the bare facts, Sasuke Uchiha preferred to work alone, with his own power and his own eyes. Initially, he had even been hesitant to accept his brothers Sharingan; they represented something that he could hardly stomach: relying on somebody else to become stronger. Yet, that was exactly what he planned to do that day. He could not form a real, lasting arm with his own power. A mechanical, chakra-formed replacement was certainly adequate, but nothing could beat flesh and blood. Sasuke had become much, much stronger since his fight with Naruto during the war—but his strength was not at its full potential, so long as a part of him was missing. Hinata Hyuuga, that girl who shared his sadness at a happy occasion, was the one to finally convince him that it was alright for him to be real again. He was Sasuke Uchiha, and it was time to return to form.

He dressed quickly, pulling a dark undershirt over his head and stepping into black pants before taking up his lavender vest and zipping it together upon his torso. He patted himself down, evening out the cloth. He reached for his sword upon the mantle, but he hesitated. Would he really need a sword that day? Even if he were to run into trouble, the tool was a preference, not a necessity. His own chakra was a much more formidable weapon than a blade of metal, regardless of how finely it had been crafted. His fingers quaked beside the hilt of the weapon, and eventually he tightened a fist and decided to leave it behind. He shook his head and closed his eyes. He didn't need it.

Though he left the sword, he formed a sign to disable the trap which he had laid upon his belongings, and then he opened the top drawer to fetch his envelope of money. It was still fat with value, mostly paper but with a few coins tinkling together within the orange shell. He reached in and scooped out a hunk of cash, tucking it into a smaller, more practical wallet to carry with him in one of the inner pockets of his vest. The billfold was black, and he himself had stamped a colorless engraving of the Uchiha Clan upon its flat surfaces, front and back. He looked over his shoulder, admiring the same symbol on the rear of his outer clothing in full, bright colors of red and white. The village feared his clan, and it resented his symbol. Yet he could not hide his heritage, nor did he want to. That was one compromise that the last surviving Uchiha would never make, no matter what. The Uchiha name would not be forgotten, for better or worse. Despite the present climate, he hoped that his name would be remembered for the better. Hinata had given him that hope, whether she knew it or not.

* * *

Hinata pulled her eyes apart after a dreamless sleep, her surroundings a blur and her body in no pain. That feeling alone was bizarre; she was accustomed to aching and squirming every time she opened her eyes in the morning. Her training with Sasuke had been intense and invasive, making it so that half of her daily thoughts were devoted to improving her skills in order to deal with her mentor's assaults. The other half of those thoughts had been taken up by more exuberant fantasies dealing with her master. She was almost entirely consumed by Sasuke, and this day was perhaps the first since he agreed to make her a student that she might go without seeing him. He had offered to visit her if he had the time, but would he? Asking herself that question, she gracefully folded her waist and lifted her body up from the soft pillow and mattress, letting her sheets flow down her front half in a silky, supple way that made her hum with delight. _Today will be a great day,_ she thought, planning out a chart for how to spend her twenty-four hour period of 'freedom' from her training schedule.

She was glad to finally have some time to spend in her own way. As much as she enjoyed—no, _craved_ her sessions with Sasuke, she had recognized the fact that she hadn't truly relaxed for over a month. Far more time than that, if she were to consider the endless hours spent in his frozen genjutsu. It was hard for her to grasp that so much time had passed in her head in a very real way, and yet for her friends and family it had only been a single month since she began her training. She could remember so much more. She didn't particularly _feel_ stronger, but she took Sasuke's word for it when he told her of her improvements. He seemed to be a superb authority on such matters of strength and chakra. She peered down at her own hands, flexing her fingers and feeling the callouses press to her palms. She had been striking rocks and wood quite a bit; ever since discovering and utilizing his genjutsu world, Sasuke had switched the regimen from pure sparring to a combination of grueling physical exercises and simulated sparring within the imagined world. There was still practical, real-world sparring as well, though. Otherwise, how would they know that she had physically improved in the way she was meant to? Her muscles even seemed to remember the motions from her dreams, despite never having made them in practice. It was odd how that worked. She figured that when the term 'muscle memory' had been coined, the person who titled it hadn't really considered that the muscles didn't have a say at all.

Everything came down to the brain, which was the organ that Sasuke had near-total mastery of. He could convince anybody of anything, should he decide to use his genjutsu upon them. Hinata had even momentarily worried to herself that Sasuke was slowly twisting her mind, turning her into some sort of willing slave—but the thought was ridiculous; an idle wondering that had been inspired by the fears of others, and not herself. Kiba would have certainly supported such a theory, which is why she was glad that Kiba wasn't around while she thought about it. _No, everything between us is genuine,_ she said with a smile and a nod to nobody in particular. Having sat in bed long enough to contemplate her life, Hinata gave one last yawn and rose her arms overhead to limber up. As her fingers opened and splayed out, her pinky touched something smooth above and behind her where the shelf was usually empty. She nearly jumped, and by instinct her Byakugan triggered to face the culprit without turning her head— _the book._ She had brought it back to her room the night before, since Hanabi wouldn't take no for an answer.

She blushed at the mere thought of it, and she paused as her short fingernail caressed the rounded edge of the tome. She closed her thumb and forefinger around the bound corner and held her breath as she pulled it off the shelf. Her lips pursed, and she felt the back of her neck beginning to sweat under the warm weight of her hair. Her nightgown didn't cover her upper back or her shoulders, but for a pair of thin straps, so the smooth friction of her own locks touched her flesh directly. She brought a hand up to tug the hair forward and fold it over one shoulder, giving her skin some time to breathe. The length had grown out again, and she realized in thought that Sasuke's sword hadn't been cutting into it recently. It was past her shoulders again.

In her other hand, she held the mysterious story—what was it that had been printed on those pages? What secrets could she learn from it? She set it in her lap, her thighs still covered by violet-tinted sheets, starkly opposed to the sunny orange color of the cover art. She played with the edge using her thumb, testing how much it would take to open the cover. It was a book that had been read once—almost all the way through—by her sister, so the spine was slightly weakened. She found it easy to pull open, and she did so with cautious glances to her left and right. What if she was to be caught? Surely such contents would be inappropriate for a woman of her age and position in the family. She peeked onto the first page: it was harmless. Nothing but a title and the name of the author. Rather, it should have been harmless, but she blanched upon seeing the name, having never known much about the series—Jiraiya, one of the Legendary Three? The Toad Sage himself? Naruto's most influential instructor? _That_ was the man who wrote such a thing? She immediately snapped it shut with an urgent hand, as if she were protecting herself from a secret that was never meant to be known. She tossed the book onto the floor in a panic, watching as it slid a few feet from the left side of her bed. Her hand went to her heart. The beat was racing, and she felt pathetic. Defeated by a book. Not even a book, but _one page_. What would Hanabi think of her if she had seen such a display? What would _Sasuke_ think?

She took a deep breath and steadied herself, turning at the waist to drape her legs over the bedside. Nonchalantly, she nudged the book underneath her bed with the back of her heel, refusing to even look at it again. Her hands felt clammy, so she wiped them on the edges of her bedclothes to dry them up. She peered at her clock and saw that the morning was relatively early—7:24 to be exact. She rubbed her eyes once, quickly dispelling her tiredness. She yawned sweetly and stepped up from bed, well-rested and prepared for a pleasant day. She made the sheets up behind her, following her routine like always. By the time she reached her closet and slid the door open, she was making plans for how to spend her 'vacation' day. She fetched her training clothes, but then she looked at them and made a face of slight disapproval. _I won't be training today, so I can dress nicer than this,_ she mused with satisfaction before folding the stretchy garments back into their designated corner. It had been a while since she dressed for looks, rather than functionality. She got out a bright yellow blouse and a pair of pristine white shorts, long enough to drop past her knees and baggy enough to be comfortable. Not entirely 'fancy,' but far more appealing to fashionable summer eyes than her black-and-violet workout clothes.

With her clothes laid out on her bed, ready to be worn, she stepped into the bathroom and prepared a shower.

* * *

Sasuke left his apartment to get a head-start, just in case there was a long line at his destination. He had thought long and hard, and decided that it would be unfair of him to ask for a personal favor after turning it down once already. _No,_ he decided, _I'm going to do it the proper way._ He navigated the village with purpose and poise, ever on the lookout for wrongdoings that he might have been able to halt. The days were typically safer than the nights, and the warmth of the sun wasn't exactly discouraging people from coming out to play. It was a weekday, so most people in the village who had jobs were heading to them. Sasuke knew that his intended contact would be at his destination, since she was known for being a hard worker—now she was, anyway. At the start of her career, she was anything but punctual, but her tenure in office had seemingly motivated her to stay on top of her duties.

The streets were crowded, and the yellow bricks underfoot were clopped upon by countless sandals, wooden and rubber soles alike joining together to sing the song of the populace. Sasuke's eyes went to the rooftops flanking the pathway, and he was dismayed by the lack of guards that had been stationed. He knew there was a shortage—Kakashi had never stopped talking about it—but how bad was it, really? Surely the village had more shinobi at its disposal than what he had seen. No wonder crime was so quickly rising—there was nobody around who could stop it from happening. Based on what Sasuke could feel from the ground with his acute senses, the watchmen were barely a third as numerous as they should have been. Was it a lack of budget, or maybe a lack of qualified applicants? Were the shinobi of the village simply unwilling to protect it? He found that thought hard to believe, but he couldn't shake the image of Shell from his mind. He was a man who would have once pledged his loyalty to the Hokage—but it was certainly a lie. What was the other target of their obedience? Whose rule superseded that of the Hokage? Was it a person, a thing, or simply a collective ideal? Sasuke didn't want to believe that the Fire Daimyo had been involved in some way, but he was having a lot of trouble placing the sort of person who could have both the influence and the resources to raise a private army right out of the core of Konoha.

He shook the thoughts loose as he got further out of the slums and closer to the heart of the village. He could see the towering stadium, its bracings rising above the surrounding buildings half-again, presenting an intimidating sight that seemed even larger than the earliest form of the Juubi. Sasuke watched as work was done to make it rise even higher, and he smiled at the idea. Those were jobs being done—money being paid to people who didn't have to go home hungry. The village had its darkness and its troubles, but there was still a very bright light that shone upon it. The good folks, the ones who thrived in the daylight, were there for one another. Sasuke was one of the daywalkers, though not truly one of the bright ones—the sun shone on him just like all the others, but his hair was such a deep black that it seemed to swallow all the brightness into a void. There was little to be done about genetics.

He was in a wealthy district, and the people continued to pay him no mind. Men and women alike were hanging the day's laundry, beating rugs out of windows, and just generally enjoying the summer weather. He heard children laughing and parents talking to one another; they spoke of the tournament, of the festival, and of the pleasant breeze and cloudless sky. It was as if those people had no idea what was growing all around them. It was better that way. Sasuke liked it when there were too many smiles to count, in every conceivable direction. To see them turn to frowns of worry would have really shaken him. If there was one thing he wanted there to be in Konoha, it was hope. Even if he wasn't the one who brought it, even if he was in fact a constant weight to the contrary, Sasuke wanted the people of the village to remain bright. That was what Itachi would have wanted. What Hinata wanted, too.

Eventually, Sasuke reached another corner, turning down that way and entering an open space with room to breathe. It wasn't a popular part of town, despite being in one of the nicest regions of Konoha. There was freshly-cut grass, well-groomed trees, and thoroughly-watered flowers all around the building to foster an inviting, soothing atmosphere. The building itself was framed by a chain-link fence a few paces out, with large rectangular pillars flanking the short gray walkway that led up to the front door. Sasuke looked at the three-story center with its turquoise roof planks and the dark green sign above the door, and he huffed a sigh. Though it was less crowded than the region he had just departed, there were still people coming and going. Children and adults alike, some with teddy bears and flowers brought for the residents.

It was perhaps the most 'modern' building in the village, with glass doors framed by metal lining, copious machinery dotting the walls with larger units settled into each and every room. Sasuke followed the flow of traffic and found himself with his hand on the door. He pulled it open and stepped into a sterile, oppressively clean environment. The floors were almost silvery in their grayness, so shiny as to be reflective. He looked from side to side and saw benches lined with people waiting to be seen. There was a counter beside a hallway that led into the deeper annals of the place.

The woman behind the counter had just finished dealing with another newcomer. This early in the morning, and there were already that many people waiting? Sasuke sighed as it came to be his turn, and he laid his hand on the waist-high wooden desktop. The woman seated back there was somewhat plain looking, a little older than 'young' but not yet decrepit. Little wrinkles around the eyes, a sag under the chin; she had otherwise aged gracefully along the skin, compared with the grayness of her hair. She met Sasuke's eyes without the usual glistening wonder inherent to most women who saw him—to her, he was just another person who needed her help. She spoke to him with a gentle tone, smiling in a practiced, comforting manner. "Welcome to the Konoha Medical Center, sir. What is it that I can do for you today?" She was giving him a cursory 'exam' with her eyes, most likely checking for blood or bruises, but he was fit and clean—aside from the obvious missing limb.

Sasuke laid his hand on the short desk and smiled his most disarming smile. "Yes, I'd like to meet with Lady Tsunade as soon as possible. Can you add me to the waiting list?"

The woman blinked. "Lady Tsunade...?" She asked tentatively, delaying the bad news. "She's rather busy today. I hope you weren't planning on asking a quick question, or something...might just be better to wait until tomorrow, since you don't look like you're going to drop dead on me."

Sasuke shook his head slowly, disappointed by the news but not entirely ruined by it. "Somebody is counting on me to meet with her today; I don't want to let this person down." He tapped his finger on the desk, fondling a thin black pen that had been chained down. Did people really steal pens from the hospital? "I'm not in a rush. I'll wait as long as necessary."

The receptionist shrugged her well-rounded shoulders and cheerfully nodded. "As long as you're willing to wait, I'll just need your name."

Sasuke looked around, as if afraid to speak his name aloud. Surely he had been recognized as he walked in—but his appearance had changed since the people of the village knew him best, and he had kept a relatively low profile since his return. Had he been recognized? If nothing else, the glaringly-bright symbol of his clan upon his back should have been a giveaway. Could it have been that people didn't even care that he was walking among them? The very concept seemed alien to him. He wasn't hiding, yet he felt concealed. He took a slow breath and answered her with relaxed confidence. "Sasuke Uchiha."

She didn't even flinch. It was odd, really. Sasuke was used to being regarded with caution, or at least a certain degree of consciousness. To that woman, that helpful, nigh-oblivious woman, he was just another patient at the hospital. He was no different from any of the others, but for the power of his eyes and the cursedness of his blood. "Alright, I'll call you up when it's your turn, Mr. Uchiha." She penned his name down on a list, and he saw that he was the 37th person in line. It looked to be progressing slowly. He sighed and set his hand on his hip, looking to play with the hilt of his sword—but it was at home. He was unarmed. He gave a reluctant nod and stepped back from the counter.

"Thank you," he replied with a partial bow, and then he faced the waiting area. The benches were short and dark brown, and most of them were occupied by impatient patients, or even people waiting to visit their family members who were already laid up. There were decorations along the teal walls, but only as high as the average child's hand could reach. Most of them were crude sketches, tacked into the cork-boarded perimeter as part of a never-ending war against boredom. Kids were usually restless in hospitals, and Sasuke knew that fact very well—he had been in them often enough to understand the struggle. After tucking himself into the crowded room, he found an empty corner seat and laid his back against the wall; the bench was hard and uncomfortable, but it was sturdy wood and he didn't complain. He looked out into the crowd of people and saw that he had been mistaken.

No, he wasn't being ignored, but the surrounding people wanted him to _think_ that he was. They were scared, even though they wore brave faces and kept their mouths from uttering his name. He felt it in the way their eyes curved his way ever-so-slightly, heard it in the occasional gasp of breath when he was first recognized. Sasuke was still a creature of darkness to them, but they were either too prideful or too smart to cause a scene about his place among them. They seemed to sit there in stressful merriment, conversing with one another as if nothing had happened yet still shivering against the chilling presence that lingered nearby. He had been naïve to think that his presence had been accepted so easily. He had simply willed himself to ignore the subtle signs of discomfort until he really settled in. Had it been that way since the moment he left his apartment? He imagined so. With a grimace of frustration, Sasuke crossed his legs atop the bench and set his hand patiently against his knee, closing his eyes and waiting to hear his name from the front desk.

* * *

Hinata's first stop was an easy decision to make, and after she assured herself of it she said goodbye to Ko with a smile on her face. He waved to her, and she told him where she was going in case she was needed. He nodded somberly to her, and she departed with her lengthy, calf-concealing boots sliding easily over her feet. She was in no particular rush, but she walked briskly even so. She felt light as air and twice as flexible as she hopped over the gate that barricaded her compound from the rest of the village, landing on the other side with a soundless impact that she barely felt along the tips of her toes.

Weaving through the village and saying hello to nearly everybody she passed, she felt like Konoha was on the mend already, even though it had yet to even notice its growing sores. The difference between night and day was—well, like the difference between night and day. She loved it as she wandered the streets without a care, maneuvering and smiling and letting the wind sweep through her hair. She wondered where Sasuke had gone—what was his master plan? She briefly thought about searching with her Byakugan, but the idea made her feel like something of a stalker. Surely he wouldn't mind, but she was starting to feel like Hanabi when those snooping thoughts hit her head.

Her destination was easy to reach, and she hopped over a few roofs to get there more quickly; she had a busy day ahead of her, and although she didn't dislike mingling with the villagers who called out to her. Aside from Sasuke, she really only had one person she wanted to talk to that morning. It had been a while since she had shared her thoughts with him, and so she felt that she was overdue. For the first morning since starting her training, she wasn't in a rush—she wasn't nearly late, and she wasn't overly exhausted. She had almost forgotten what it meant to live carefree, keeping simple appointments and inconsequential tasks. Every day since she joined up with Sasuke had felt so significant that she had almost forgotten to breathe every morning. The night before, she had been relaxed—but still surrounded by the weight of the Uchiha District and the horrible things that had happened there. Without Sasuke around, she felt like a butterfly moving from flower to flower, visiting just long enough to gather the aroma before moving on again. And yet, despite how blissful the aimlessness felt, she missed him. She missed his cold, calculated training—and she definitely missed his warm, protective gaze.

The butterfly with deep ocean-blue hair stepped through the door of the Yamanaka flower shop, waving brightly to the familiar woman behind the counter, and to the less-familiar but still recognizable man who sat at her side with an easel set up and paints laid on the counter. He didn't work there, Hinata knew, but he was no stranger to the family. "Good morning, Ino and Sai," Hinata spoke from the door as it closed on its own hinge behind her. The smell of the shop was luxurious, and Hinata basked within the sweet smells like she was floating down a river of good feelings. Her fingers touched pink, yellow, and blue petals as she stepped toward the counter and received a greeting in return.

"Morning, Hinata," Ino said with a white smile that glistened in the light. The building was open and bright, giving the plants within plenty of sun to feast on. "Haven't seen you in a while! Have you been busy?" She laid her elbows on the counter, setting her chin on her fists and smiling almost like a curious cat. "Maybe met somebody who's been keeping you that way?" She winked, not knowing a thing about it, yet conveying herself as if she knew everything.

Hinata blushed, but she denied the supposition expertly. "N-no, I haven't met anyone...I mean I've met people, but not someone s-special like you think," she stuttered, cursing herself silently for falling back into the old habit. She had been getting so much better at speaking out openly, but without Sasuke around she felt herself regressing. Or maybe it was because Sasuke was the topic at hand and she was desperately fighting to keep his name off her lips and tongue. "I-I'm just here for the usual," she added quietly, reaching into a pocket and laying a clip of money on the counter, perfectly measured.

Ino gave a nod, reaching back onto one of the shelves, turning her body and leaning far. Digging through layers of plants in pots, and those which had already been cut and bundled, she strained a little. "Almooost," she stretched further back into the stockpile, holding her tongue out to the side with concentration as she found the 'usual' and pulled it back out into the open. Even the lowest shelves seemed to be illuminated by the sun, no matter how far back they reached. Either the building was expertly designed, or the Yamanaka Clan had developed a ninjutsu technique to keep their flowers in the light. Either way, Ino produced what Hinata wanted and held them out gingerly to her. "A dozen dwarf sunflowers," Ino chimed, smirking confidently as she held out the round-faced blooms. They were arranged in a nicely-fanned bouquet and bound with a paper wrap around the stems, all tied together by a thin, lustrous gold string.

Hinata smiled at the sight, and she felt the bright yellow hue of her shirt synchronizing with the reflection of the flowers themselves. She felt harmonious with the plants, and she took them in one hand to cradle them near her chest. "Thank you," she whispered, touching her nose to one of the brown seed pods, inhaling the overall scent with a quiet sigh. The money was on the counter, and Hinata turned to walk away with a grateful "goodbye, I'll see you next time."

"Have a great day, Hinata," Ino answered with enthusiasm. With a sly look in her eyes, she waited until the door was closed, and although there were still a few other customers perusing the shelves, the 'important' party had just left. It was time for gossip. "Sai," Ino whispered, hand cupping the side of her mouth.

The pale artist's mind had been elsewhere; he had barely even noticed the fact that Hinata had come and gone. He was watching for someone or something else, seated behind the counter with his hands at work on a painting but his eyes pointed elsewhere. "Hmm?" he hummed, sounding a little bit disinterested, though it was in a voice that was affectionate. His flower was speaking to him, and he opened his senses to her.

"She's in love, you know..." Ino kept on whispering, her blonde hair hanging over her backside as she tipped herself forward, bent in front of her special guest with a sly smirk on her face to share her newly-acquired secret. "Who do you think it is? I'll bet it's somebody rowdy like Kiba, or maybe even Lee..."

Sai blinked at that. He hadn't noticed anything peculiar about Hinata's mannerisms—though he wasn't actually watching her, nor anybody he genuinely trusted. His eyes were glued for the most part on faces he had never seen in the shop. He had spotted several new ones that day already, either men or women, but that was only natural. The flowers had come into spectacular bloom that year, and just as Ino had planned, there were potential customers coming in from further away places than the village itself to peruse the selection. Though the tournament was her real ticket to global visibility for the Yamanaka brand, she had made some early leads due to the fact that her family had provided the bouquets for Naruto and Sakura's wedding.

Sai forced himself to pay attention to the gossip at hand. He wasn't especially interested in the affairs themselves, but it meant a lot to Ino when he gave her his ear. She loved to chat about rumors and intuitions she had picked up on, and despite the triviality of it, he loved to listen to her when she was excited about something. "Love?" he asked simply, peering at the twinkle in Ino's eyes as she looked at him. 'Love' was like the feeling he got when he looked at her. The books had never adequately described it, but he knew it when he felt it. "Why are you guessing that she has fallen for somebody like Kiba or Lee, if you don't mind my asking?" He knew she didn't mind. In fact, she yearned to be asked.

Ino smiled so widely that it made her artist smile all the same, though he didn't know what she was smiling about, specifically. It could have been any number of things, but her happiness was reflected like a mirror. She was his muse; she gave him all sorts of things to smile about. She didn't need to know that she had been targeted, nor that _he_ had been. She only needed to know that he was there for her, and that he would protect her. If there was one thing that he could absolutely do by himself, without Sasuke's help or input, it was keeping Ino safe.

"Well, Hinata's shy and skittish. Anybody less than an aggressive sort will never make any headway. Say that a guy like you, handsome and sweet but maybe a little _too_ nice, tried to flirt with a girl like her." Ino gestured toward the door, though Hinata had gone through it already and was long out of view. "She'd be flattered, but she'd decline your advances and scamper off as quick as she could. She's a tough catch. No, see...a girl like that needs to be chased, and she needs to be caught." Ino grinned somewhat wickedly. "Cornered, forced to look a person in the eyes, feel his passion burning for her..." The girl in the dark purple clothing shuddered as she imagined it, and her hips swayed slightly from side to side. "Mmf, I say Kiba and Lee, but I can't really imagine the kind of guy who'd _really_ get under Hinata's skin like that...especially since she got spurned by Naruto, you know?"

Sai hummed thoughtfully, stroking his brush along the canvas in front of him. "It seems that you'd like that type of guy, as well," he teased as he dipped his brush into the darkest of his purple paints. "Shall I give our friend Kiba a hint?" He was playing with her, of course. He had learned a lot about Ino since meeting her. She loved compliments, she loved flowers, she loved his paintings, and most of all she loved the idea of having dozens of admirers.

Ino smiled and blushed, punching him gently on the shoulder and causing a mild shift in the way his brush stroke was going. A minor punishment for his toying, but as he looked at it, he couldn't help but think that the piece had been improved by the unpredictability. That was one of the things he admired about her. Regardless of odds, her touch made everything more beautiful. Her playful thump had improved even the art which he might have ignorantly called 'perfect' beforehand.

"Kiba doesn't need to know a damned thing," Ino whispered, leaning her face in to touch the side of Sai's cheek with her lips. She nipped the pale skin and laid a hand on his thigh, patting him once affectionately. She stepped back after that, not wanting to drown him in her affection. It was best to leave him somewhat thirsty, she had found. "Stay here, I'm going to water the flowers out front." She winked, then disappeared into the back to fetch the watering can. Sai smiled, but he was inwardly concerned. He didn't honestly like that she was stepping into the open. If he had his way, he would have hidden her from the world and kept her to himself. However, that wasn't an option. She thrived on being viewed; Ino was a person who loved to be noticed, loved to be appreciated. No matter how much he worried, Sai had told himself long ago that he would never let the shadows conceal her. She would always be able to dance in the sun. If that meant that he would be forced to protect her when the trouble came, then so be it.

* * *

Sasuke felt bored because the people around him felt bored. Typically, he could spend hours by himself and stay entertained by his own thoughts, yet the atmosphere of the typical waiting room in the front area of a hospital had drained all his patience from the moment he walked in. He joined the collective of worried people, and he felt the agitation inherent to sitting in one place for too long while wanting to be someplace else. In his quest for activity, Sasuke had taken to blowing on the lengthened strands of his hair, trying to make the locks do little twirls and flips along his nose with air alone. As skilled as he was with all manner of ninjutsu—including wind, courtesy of his Rinnegan—he was having trouble making his non-enhanced breaths do what he wanted them to. The thrill of being challenged was enough to keep him from losing his mind with boredom. Boredom and the stifling sensation of being watched by people who disliked him, but whom he did not dislike. Despite his distaste over being treated like a monster, Sasuke knew he deserved it. Though, that didn't really make it any easier to endure their constant wariness. He wanted to be accepted, but he knew that it was a far off dream. They didn't confront him because they were frightened, but he had a feeling that numerous people had gone to Kakashi's office to request that Sasuke be 'dealt with' in some way. He felt fortunate that the small handful of people who supported him just so happened to be some of the most influential people in all of Konoha.

Still, it also felt like cheating. Naruto put in a good word for Sasuke on a regular basis, and Kakashi saw it as his duty as the Hokage to see that every Konoha-born shinobi be treated equally, regardless of past issues. Sasuke was a special case, even still, and he knew that it was because Kakashi blamed himself for allowing his student to fall to the darkness in the first place. Sasuke reminded himself to have a talk with the current Hokage about that. He didn't like the idea of somebody else taking the blame—it was almost a matter of pride, Sasuke had decided. Nobody else was to be allowed to assume responsibility for his decisions. He made the choices, and he deserved to live with them. When Naruto, Kakashi, and Sakura tried to blame themselves, he felt guilty and a little bit annoyed. It was as if they thought he was incapable of thinking for himself. Truthfully, he was thinking with his own mind when he got lost; he only did what he personally wanted to do. It just so happened that, for a long period of time, he wanted to do very bad things that he would regret for the rest of his life.

Too late to take those things back, but not too late to lay a new foundation and build on top of it. The sins would always be there underneath, but they didn't necessarily have to affect what came after. He had already begun the reconstruction, though the steps thus far had been minor. As he mused, he heard a very familiar voice speak his name from a hallway that was across from his corner of the open lobby. "Sasuke? What are you doing here?" she asked with confusion, tilting her head and furrowing her brow. He turned to regard her, and he stood up from his bench to make himself more visible.

"I'd ask the same thing. Shouldn't you be with your husband?" Sasuke pondered with a little bit of a chill in his voice. He hadn't expected to run into Sakura, but he should have—it was a hospital, and she was a medic. On further inspection, the pink-haired and spunky member of Team 7 was dressed in a green set of scrubs and had a white paper mask dangling down around her neck.

Sakura sighed a little, glancing down at her wedding ring. It sparkled beautifully, though Sasuke found himself wondering if it was wise for her to wear it while working as a doctor. She answered him calmly: "We don't have to be together all day, every day, you know. As long as I'm wearing this ring, we're connected that way." She was walking over from the far off hallway, and she sat down on Sasuke's bench without being explicitly invited. It was a stolen permission, but Sasuke wasn't going to tell her to leave. "Actually, I'd like to be here even more often, but Lady Tsunade won't allow it."

The patiently-waiting Uchiha perked a brow. "Won't allow it? Why not?"

Sakura rolled her eyes. "She's been lecturing me about how I should live my youthful days to their fullest and be happy while I can. When I try to come in off-schedule, she turns me away, even though we're short on doctors. Lately, she's even been saying that I should leave all the work to 'old women' like her. I think she's having some kind of late midlife crisis."

Sasuke smirked and closed his eyes, sighing through his nose. "Youthful days. Sounds like Rock Lee's mentor. His name is Might Guy, isn't it?"

Sakura nodded, looking a bit sad. "Yeah, well...there's probably a reason for that."

"A reason?" Sasuke felt intrigued.

"Guy-sensei has been around here a lot, since he suffered so much damage to his leg during the war. Naruto kept him alive after the Eighth Gate was opened, but...he wasn't totally fixed." Sakura then perked up, smiling hopefully. "But he doesn't seem all that broken up; in fact, he's not even here for treatment anymore. The damage has been done, and the healing is slow, if it will ever happen at all. No, he's here as part of a support group."

"What sort of support group?" Sasuke found himself asking. Anything, even conversation about sick people, was better than the boredom he was feeling before she showed up. Aside from that, Sakura was one of the few people he was always happy to see. He no longer felt the pain of laying his eyes on her. She was something else to him—a sister, maybe? His feelings for Hinata, feelings he could no longer deny, even in his most doubtful inner thoughts, had put his relationship with Sakura into perspective. And in some way, due to the nature of the Sage's sons and Sasuke's own shared status as a reincarnation along with Naruto, Sakura was a distant, distant form of sister-in-law by marriage. Cousin, at the very least.

"The war took a huge toll on everyone who fought in it," Sakura answered, folding her hands in her lap while she got comfortable on the bench. "Guy-sensei knows that better than anyone, maybe. He still prattles about youth, and that's what's rubbed off on Lady Tsunade and gotten her talking nonsense about how I should live every day to the fullest. If it were entirely up to me, I'd be here every single day, but Lady Tsunade keeps me on a strict schedule. I get to make a difference, but I also have plenty of time to enjoy my marriage with Naruto..."

Sasuke nodded slowly. "But if you're on such a limited schedule, how do you pay the bills? Wouldn't it be better for you if you could work more?"

Sakura blinked, rubbing the back of her head with a bare hand. "Oh, uh...Sasuke, I don't get paid to work here. I'm strictly a volunteer, along with Lady Tsunade—and Shizune when she finds time off from her duties as Kakashi-sensei's assistant."

"Mm, my mistake," Sasuke murmured, settling further into his seat and biting the inside of his lip. "I should have known you'd be generous like that."

"Almost nobody who works here is getting officially paid for it, but Lady Tsunade tries to keep people happy. Fed, clothed, and sheltered at least. She has money of her own, but it's not limitless. She's starting to wear thin, just like everybody else." Her hand went to her forehead and rubbed it thoughtfully. "It's so strange; no matter who tries to trace it, we can't seem to figure out where all the village's money is pouring out to. Even without getting support from the daimyo, we shouldn't be _this_ drained. Not yet."

The last Uchiha scoffed. "It's like the village is getting sucked dry from the inside, hmm? For all we know, money's being taken right out of the coffers and dumped into a bottomless pit," Sasuke thought out loud. Sakura was one of the few people who knew the situation with the traitors, so he kept his voice low for the sake of the others nearby. Even though most of the visitors were civilians, there were always shinobi lurking around to cause wariness. He didn't want to be overheard, despite having nothing to fear from them, personally. "I'm bothered by how the interrogation with Shell went. The trail went cold before we ever caught on, since that traitor was our only lead. The only information we got out of him was that we're surrounded. It was a bold taunt, and the most irritating part of it is that there's nothing we can do about it yet."

Sakura bit her lower lip. She thought for a second, but she owed Sasuke the same consideration she owed Naruto. Just like she didn't want to hide things from her husband, she didn't want to keep Sasuke in the dark about the fact that she spilled the beans. "Well...Naruto will probably be looking into it, too, now..." She winced for the backlash, but it was rather plain.

"I had a feeling you were going to tell him," Sasuke breathed normally, not even looking surprised. "It was a waste of effort to tell you to keep the secret."

"Heh," Sakura chuckled, setting her hand against the loose fitting pants of her hospital uniform, tugging on it sheepishly. "Well, for what it's worth, I'm sorry about it."

"Don't worry; he's your husband, and we were all part of Team 7. It felt odd that Naruto was the only one who didn't know, and yet...he's got to be frustrated with himself right now. His sensing abilities likely won't be enough to point out the traitors, for one reason or another. It could be that there's too much hostility for him to sort through, but I'm starting to think that it runs deeper than that."

"Deeper?" Sakura's lips turned into an oval of open curiosity.

"Yeah. It's just a theory, but it seems to me that the Kyuubi's—and therefore Naruto's—ability to sense negative intent and emotions depends on the target having emotions to begin with..." Sasuke's eyes opened pointedly, looking directly into Sakura's realizing expression. She understood.

"And members of Danzo's faction don't have them," she finished the idea. It was an unsettling thought, but it was a truth that she couldn't deny. She had known Sai when he was still brainwashed by Danzo's methods, and at the time he was a genuinely unsettling person to be around. Although it seemed as if he had the ability to be happy, or sad, or frustrated...he was blank on the inside. An empty vessel with nothing to fill it. Was that how every member of Root went through life? Silence fell between them as the reality of the situation sunk in. Somehow the hospital had become even more depressing. Sakura did her best to change the subject: "You never answered me, though—what are you doing here? You don't look wounded."

Sasuke looked to his empty sleeve and chuckled with mild sarcasm. "Oh, I don't? I thought I was missing a limb."

Sakura cleared her throat, but she smiled in a friendly way. "That was your choice, remember? You could have waited until your replacement was prepared, but..." she trailed off, swallowing the remnants of her regrets. If he had stayed a little longer, would she and him have grown closer, or would they have realized then what they finally knew—that they weren't meant for each other? "Anyway, that still doesn't answer my question."

With a determined look into Sakura's eyes from arm's length away, Sasuke decided that she knew the answer to his question: "And if I were to change my mind, Sakura?" He allowed for a second of silence. Sakura looked surprised. "Would the replacement still be available to me?"

"You...want it now?" Mrs. Uzumaki pursed her lips and looked over her shoulder down the hall. She was needed elsewhere, but Sasuke still took certain priorities in her life, despite being demoted from 'one true love' status. "If that's the case, it's been kept ready just in case you ever came for it. Why now, though?"

"I'd like to be in top form for the tournament," Sasuke smoothly answered. That was close enough to the truth; he wasn't lying to her, though he conveniently left out the reason why he wanted to win so badly. "Ordinarily I would make my own replacement, but my Rinnegan has been forbidden from the arena. I'll need to go about it the old fashioned way, and this is the only place I could think to turn to."

Sakura looked over her shoulder again to see that her colleagues were giving her questioning looks. Though she was a volunteer and free to leave at any time, she had been right in the middle of something when she spotted the unusual guest. "Well, Lady Tsunade has a busy schedule today. She even canceled her appearance at the support group meeting this morning. Guy-sensei is alone with them, and you know how out of hand he can get without somebody to keep him in check..."

Sasuke smirked somewhat sadly. "Actually, I don't...I never got to know him very well before I left."

"R-right," Sakura blushed regretfully. "It's...actually really easy to forget that you haven't been here. I always felt like you could have been right around the corner. With us in spirit, if that makes sense."

There was a sad smile on Sasuke's face. "If only that were true," he murmured. His eyes peered over to the hallway that his old friend had emerged from. "Aren't you needed over there? Those people are looking at you."

Sakura turned her head and gave a little wave; the pair of nurses in the same getup as Sakura seemed to take that hand gesture as a 'don't bother me, I'm having a moment' indication, and they looked at one another and shrugged before heading off into a side room. The absent medic smiled at Sasuke and winked. "They'll be fine without me. Even though we've always got a heavy load, today we haven't had any serious emergencies. I hate making people wait on me, but I don't get to see you very often and I'm taking this chance for as long as I can." She nibbled her lower lip in thought. "In fact, why don't you let me be the one to put you back together?"

Sasuke's breath caught somewhat. His first thought was the one that hit his lips: "You? Are you sure you know what you're doing?" He may have sounded too skeptical, but it was an instinctive question. He had been counting on Tsunade's expert touch—granted, Sakura was a capable medic in her own way, but she wasn't quite as fabled as her master was.

"What's _that_ supposed to mean?" Sakura demanded with a dent in her forehead caused by her tightly-flexed brows. Her hand reached out and grabbed Sasuke's wrist, and she stood up from the bench to pull him up with her. He was lifted from his seat with little chance to resist. Sakura looked at him sternly. "No arguments. We're going now."

"I..." Sasuke started, but he knew it was pointless to argue. "Thank you, Sakura," he grumbled, settling for that. The only person in the whole village who was as stubborn as Naruto was his wife. With her, it was useless to resist, useless to debate. She had a way of stunning a person into submission with a harsh glance. Sasuke was just going to have to trust that Sakura knew what she was doing. As the pushy medic tugged him out of the waiting area and toward one of the staircases, he felt a few resentful glances from the other people behind his back—mostly because of who he was, but there was another layer to it that time. Why, after all, should _he_ be allowed to cut in line?

* * *

Hinata took the sunflowers to the cemetery, as planned. She walked quietly through the rows, noting the names on the stones as she passed them. Many of them she recognized, many more she did not. The graveyard had grown substantially since the war. Thousands died—tens of thousands, when all the villages were added together. They weren't just soldiers, nor statistics. They were individuals, with names like Shikaku Nara, Inoichi Yamanaka, and Neji Hyuuga. They were all people who had been loved and cherished, and whose absences were felt every day, even three years later. One of those graves, marked with a slanted stone and carved with a skilled hand, belonged to her cousin Neji. No matter how soothing Sasuke had been, no matter how fulfilling his presence had proven to be, there was nothing that could fully quell her sense of loss.

She dropped to her knees in the grass, pulling her shorts up a little bit to prevent them from being stained by dirt. Her skin hit the soft green blades and the cool soil they sprouted from, and her hands laid the bundle of flowers into the tube that had been built into the marker. The old flowers had been taken out by some other hand; she didn't know whose, only that it was somebody else who cared about Neji like she had. Cared enough to remove the decaying blooms, because that was not a representation of him. He hadn't withered. He never would.

"Good morning, Neji," Hinata started. She smiled softly, running her hand along the corner of the stone which protected her cousin's rest. "I know it's been a while, but I've been very busy..." She felt a tear form along the corner of her eye, but she didn't wipe it. She allowed it to grow. "You remember Sasuke, right? He came over the last time I talked to you. He's...been training me. Every day, just like you used to. He's making me stronger, teaching me how to use new techniques. I'm able to create a current of lightning through my hands, now." She remembered when she first used that technique in battle, and she frowned. "Things are getting dangerous in the village; Hanabi and I were attacked, but we're both okay. Sasuke protected me from the man who hurt me. Then the man was punished." She shook her head and looked to the ground, clutching some grass in her hand. "But that's enough about that. There's a tournament coming up, and I've entered into it. Sasuke says I can win, and I know you're probably thinking the same, but...I'm not really sure. There are a lot of strong people in the world. Am I really stronger than every single other person in the bracket?" She fell silent for a moment, then she smiled as she imagined his response. _Of course you are—you're a Hyuuga._ "Well, Hanabi is a Hyuuga too, and she'll be in the same tier as me. I'm nervous about fighting her. And then there are the others, like Sakura, Ino, Choji, even your teammate Tenten, too! They're all so strong, and they all want to win for their own reasons. What makes me so special? Why do I get so much faith from you, Sasuke, and even Lord Sixth?" She didn't hear an answer. That was a question she had never _known_ the answer to. "Father has been distant, as usual...the Hokage is as busy as ever. It's like the people in this village haven't changed at all, even though we carry so many more burdens now." She sighed, feeling her chest tightening. "Everybody we lost is still a part of us, and no matter how hard we try to push forward, we can't forget the senseless war that took you from us. Thank you, Neji, for saving my life back then. I'm starting to find happiness again, and that wouldn't have been possible without you..."

Hinata sat in silence for a few moments with her eyes shut. She wanted Neji back. The war had stolen him, and it wasn't fair. When her eyes opened up again, blurry with a light film of tears, she peered around. She didn't see anybody else around; there were a lot of lonely graves that morning. The thought made her sad, but she was comforted by the sun on her back. If she concentrated, she could feel fingers against her shoulder. Whether it was her imagination or something more, she knew that the hand belonged to Neji.

* * *

Sasuke was carted through the hospital and taken to a staircase, where he was pulled up by Sakura toward the second floor. "You don't have to pull me, Sakura," he reminded her with a wince on his face. It didn't really hurt, but he was swept up in the moment. He felt like his old self, with Sakura being the bossy one and himself being the one who took things too seriously for his own good. Back then, he hadn't fallen yet—he didn't truly fall into the darkness until he realized that he was too weak to protect the girl—now a woman—who stood in front of him. "I'm not going to disappear if you let go."

Sakura stopped mid-step, pausing on the stairs and letting go of Sasuke's wrist without a word. "Do you really mean that, Sasuke?" She turned in place, looking down at his face in the darkness. The stairwell was poorly lit; the windows were shuttered by green, slatted wood planks on the outside, and the lights were turned off to discourage loitering without supervision. It made the hospital seem a bit creepy, but at least the halls were well lit.

Sasuke looked up at her from two stairs lower and he took his hand back. "I mean it. I'm not going to abandon the village again."

"So when I give you this arm, you're not just going to take it and run off?" She seemed more than skeptical. "It's a bit strange to me that you'd suddenly decide to take us up on our replacement offer right before you've got a photo session scheduled; it's almost like you want to get the arm while you can, and then make yourself scarce." She seemed like she could have been teasing, but she had a look as serious as death.

"You know about the shoot?" Sasuke was perplexed; bothered by how quickly word had gotten out. It had been less than twelve hours since he had even agreed to the appointment in the first place. "Information spreads pretty quickly around here, doesn't it?"

Sakura shrugged. "Sai told Ino, and Ino told me. I stopped by the flower shop on my way to the hospital this morning to say hello."

"Sai, huh?" Sasuke flattened his lips with slight disappointment. "He's sure chatty, considering where he comes from."

"He's changed over the years since parting with Root. Ino has really cracked him open. He tells her a lot of things, and since Ino loves to gossip, she tells those things to _me_...and since I don't want you to vanish, now I'm telling you now that if you do, I'm going to break your nose." She huffed, folding her arms. There were footsteps coming from above, somebody descending the stairs. "If you really want to ease my mind, you can tell me why you've suddenly had a change of heart. You've known about the tournament for a month; if that's all it is, you would have come to Lady Tsunade sooner."

Sasuke sighed, bringing his hand up to knead his forehead. The stubbornness was in full swing. "Look, I told somebody that I was going to win the tournament. If I plan to do that, I'll need both arms."

"Who were you tellin—" She cut herself off and blushed, cupping her own chin in her hand. Could it be? "You...didn't happen to say this to Hinata, did you...?" The blush was softening, giving way to a sly curve of her mouth, a smirk that wouldn't let up. As she stared at Sasuke, another medic passed the pair on the steps and gave them an odd look. Behind his white mask and green hairnet, only the confusion in his eyes showed through.

Sasuke allowed the onlooker to pass completely and exit into the hallway before he closed his eyes and dodged the question. The awkward silence had only made it harder to fess up. "Does it matter who I said it to? The point is that I'm not going anywhere. I don't intend to make a liar out of myself."

"Whatever you say, then. Naruto is still going to win, you know." Sakura winked at him, reaching out to pat him on the top of the head, ruffling his hair. Testing him. He didn't flinch. Now that Sasuke wasn't the sole object of her worship, Sakura was starting to see the fun inherent in teasing him. She took for granted the fact that he had come back to his senses and vowed not to hurt his friends again. "Nobody would blame a guy with one arm for being beaten, but if you insist on giving up your only good excuse for losing, then I guess that's your right." She whistled playfully and turned her back to him, resuming her stair climbing. Sasuke followed behind with silent steps. His eyebrow was twitching, having started from the moment she turned away. He was irritated by her lack of confidence in him, but it was the best kind of irritation. The playful kind; the sort that rose out of a friendly rivalry. Sasuke felt like Sakura was finally his friend again.

"Whoever wins in the end, I'm not going to make it easy for Naruto to claim all the glory," Sasuke said with casual arrogance, coming up over the crest of the stairs and entering a well-lit hallway on the second floor. It was an outer section of the hospital with tall, wide windows lining the whole wall to his left. On the right, there was a long row of equally-spaced wooden doors stretched down the hall, which Sakura was leading him past. He had intended to follow without pause, but then he heard some boisterous discussion coming from behind one of the doors.

 _"Never give up your youth! Become your own rival if you have to! Surpass yourself each and every day!"_ The sound was piercing, full of energy. Sasuke recognized it immediately as the voice of Rock Lee's sensei. The support group, then? Sasuke couldn't resist a peek, and he turned away from Sakura's guidance to look subtly through the small rectangular window placed above the door's handle. Sure enough, there was a man there in a wheelchair and wearing a green workout suit with orange arm and leg warmers—though his right leg was sealed in a cast. He was surrounded by a circle of others who seemed to suffer from similar conditions. Missing arms, eyes, legs, even just fingers and toes. All levels of injury seemed to be represented in that room, and the sight was sobering. Those were the faces of men and women who had lost themselves, yet continued to live, continued to be optimistic. Sasuke saw smiles on their faces and twinkling in their eyes.

"Sakura," Sasuke hummed quietly. She hadn't even noticed that he was no longer following until he spoke, and when she turned to face him, she seemed confused.

"What's up, Sasuke?" She tracked back to join him, peering in through the window as well. "Oh, yeah, that's the support group I told you about...you remember Guy-sensei now, right?"

"The memory is starting to come back to me," Sasuke smirked with something of a familiar headache growing at the base of his skull. His only memorable encounter with the man in that room had been immediately following his first meeting with Rock Lee. Things were different, then—Sasuke was a kid with barely any proper combat experience. He was brash and reckless, and his overconfidence had cost him his sense of dignity; he was thrashed by a superior opponent and had only himself to blame. One of his deepest regrets in life came in the form of Rock Lee—he never got the chance to avenge his loss. Meanwhile Guy, the man who taught the genin who defeated both Sasuke Uchiha and Naruto Uzumaki back to back, was confined to a wheelchair. The master's advancement had come to a halt. "How does he stay so positive in that kind of situation? If I remember right, he's a person who thrives on being in peak physical condition."

Sakura shrugged her shoulders. "He's a wonder, that's for sure...he's always cheerful, and he really lifts the spirits of the others. Just look at them in there—when he's talking to them, it's like they're happier than they were before they were hurt. If nothing else, he's a fabulous motivational speaker." Just then, the muffled voice of Guy called out from behind the door, screaming about youth and ambitions. It was then that he rolled forward, abandoning his wheelchair in favor of balancing on his two hands, legs rising toward the ceiling, though a bit limp and lopsided. He took 'steps' with his fingertips, and his audience clapped vigorously—or snapped enthusiastically, if a hand happened to be missing. Sakura smiled, and Sasuke couldn't help but join her. "The reason this room is on the second floor instead of the first was Guy's suggestion—he said from the beginning that having a disability was no excuse to do things the easy way."

Sasuke peered down to his own missing limb, and he couldn't shake an obvious thought. "Can't you replace what they've lost? If you can give me a limb, couldn't you prepare the same for the people in there, too?"

Sakura sighed, clamping her arms horizontally over her bust with frustration. "Believe me, we've tried. It's not as simple with them as it is with you. The First Hokage's cells are the only source we can stimulate into proper growth; using those cells, we can create a strong, lasting bodypart. The problem is that the material is too volatile, and most people aren't compatible with the cells to begin with. You and Naruto are easy—you're both directly related to the Sage of the Six Paths, which means you're practically Lord Hashirama's own flesh and blood. His cells will work fine for you. Captain Yamato, Lady Tsunade, and even Orochimaru would also be fine candidates for the same manner of transplant, since they've got compatible DNA too. On the other hand, you saw firsthand what happens when those cells are grafted onto a body that's not fully compatible with them..."

Sasuke thought back to Danzo. The twisted, cracking deformity that grew out of his shoulder as his concentration failed was enough to inspire nightmares. "I see your point." Better no limb at all than one that might swallow its host hole after the slightest jostling.

"Naturally, we're researching other methods that don't utilize the First's cells, but those processes are a lot slower and a lot less consistent with their results. It's trial and error at this point—given enough time, we might be able to 'fix' all those people in there, but until then, all we can do is provide physical and emotional therapy. Guy-sensei has been a huge help in both regards."

"I see Guy is doing well for himself, but what about Lee?" Sasuke asked, naturally jumping to his semi-rival. "I haven't seen any sign of him since I came back. If he was at the wedding, I didn't really notice."

Sakura nodded. "He was there, and so was Guy. They spent a lot of their time trying to avoid the advances of a drunk Mizukage, though, so you might not have ever seen them."

"The Mizukage..." Another person he remembered all too well. The last time he recalled being face to face with her, she was trying to melt him where he stood with a cloud of misty acid. "I take it she's still single."

"Not for lack of trying, though," Sakura revealed with a self-satisfied smirk. She had gotten married before poor Mei Terumi, and although it was sort of tragic, it was also a point of pride. "Come on, we're almost to the cold storage room. Once we're there, we can start right away. The procedure isn't especially difficult—at least, it wasn't for Naruto. Given your genetic compatibility, it's practically just plug-and-play, with a little bit of medical ninjutsu to seal the tendons, nerves, and bones together. After that, it's a matter of giving yourself time to get used to it."

"Sounds simple enough," Sasuke mumbled, finally stepping away from the small window after watching Guy finish his fourth lap around the room on his bare hands. Sakura was further down the hall already, seemingly in a hurry. She had a door held open, presumably the one leading into the room in which 'his' arm had been stored for three years.

He met her there, standing in the door frame. The room itself was simple—white floors, light green walls, no windows. The perimeter was lined with cabinets stacked three high, each sealed by a door that was a little bigger than the average desk in a young child's classroom. The doors were painted mint green to match the walls, and Sakura's hand went to one of the knobs near the ceiling, stretching up on her toes to gain leverage. "Since I knew you'd come for it someday, I've kept an eye on it to make sure that there 's no decay. It' was still in perfect condition as of last night." She opened the door, and a billow of misty air fell out of a dark chamber. Each of the metal cabinets seemed to house an individual refrigeration unit. From the shallow depths of the storage unit, she pulled out a glass tube which contained something that was wrapped up in bandages like mummified remains.

Full of questions, the patient fired off another one: "Are the bandages a crucial part of it? I've noticed that Naruto still keeps his arm wrapped up." Sasuke pondered, touching his thumb to his chin in thought.

"Between you and me, my husband just happens to like the way the bandages look. Right now, on yours, they're in place to keep the tissue protected from outside contaminants until it's attached. After that, you won't necessarily need to keep it wrapped. The color of the flesh starts out as a pasty white, but over time as it incorporates itself onto your body and cycles new skin cells, it will adapt to your natural pigment. If you want a professional estimate for how long that will take, I'd say it shouldn't take more than a few days."

Sasuke gave a nod. It all sounded good to him. It was never about the length or difficulty of the procedure; the details hardly mattered. The important thing was that he was going to be complete in body, like he had come to feel in spirit. "I'm ready when you are, Sakura."

Sakura smiled at him in the disarming way a doctor might smile to a child about to get an injection. She took the frozen limb out of its glass container and gently laid it out upon a clean metal table in the center of the room. "Alright, then...come on over and roll up your sleeve. This won't hurt a _bit_..."

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 **I hope you liked the chapter! Another round of thanks to everybody so far who has left a review, sent a message, favorited, followed, or even just read the story at all! Looking forward to writing the next chapter. I'll get it done as soon as possible. Take care until we meet again!**


	36. Filling the Emptiness

**Enjoy!**

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Sasuke had fully intended to watch as the artificial limb was stuck to his stumped arm, but he could not bring himself to do it. He had lived for years without the weight and presence on his left side, and on some level he was beginning to feel sentimental—maybe even regretful. Was he ready to go back to 'normal' in that way? Had he jumped ahead of himself in a bid to please Hinata? Sakura had her lips pursed and her tongue sticking out slightly. She held the frozen white arm in both hands, and Sasuke kept himself perfectly still for her sake. He imagined that there would be a great deal of precision involved in such an 'operation' despite how simplistically she described it. His eyes were closed, but he could feel her movements in the air beside him. He focused on her pleasant aroma, although she had been tainted by a little bit of a chemical smell that was no doubt the result of her handling of medicine and various apparatuses. Her hands were washed and perfectly clean beneath her gloves, but the scents lingered upon her clothing.

"Good, hold still just like that," Sakura hummed, keeping her mouth thin and her head tilted. She inched the new arm closer to his stubby elbow, but she tensed her brows and let out a disappointed hum just before the frigid mass came into contact with him. "There's a lot of hard, calloused skin in the way...the attachment won't bind properly unless it's connected directly to live tissue." She had hoped that the implant would go as smoothly as it had gone for Naruto, but it had been too long. The wound had not only closed, but also reinforced itself over time with scar tissue and lumpy flesh. "I will need to cut some of it away after all."

Sasuke smirked, shaking his head from one side to the other. "I had a feeling that you'd say something like that," he teased, peering his right eye open and looking at Sakura's lightly-blushed face. "I've learned never to trust doctors when they say that it's a simple operation, and it won't hurt a bit." His smirk revealed his friendly intentions, though there was truth to what he said. 'This won't hurt a bit' was commonly known doctor speak, and it roughly translated into 'this may be the worst pain you've ever experienced in your life.' Sasuke peered at the intended replacement as Sakura huffed and set it back into its wrappings, laying it upon the silvery table to her left.

"Alright, new plan. This is going to take some cooperation. I'll need to use my own chakra to make a scalpel and shave away the excess tissue, but...you're kind of a special case. I don't even know if I'll be able to pierce your skin while you're conscious." She bit her lower lip and tapped the edge of her thumb against her chin in thought. "Here—just try your best not to resist, okay? It _is_ going to hurt, but only as much as it needs to." Sakura had decided to give the scalpel a try. She pushed her hands together and infused her right fingers with gleaming blue light, buzzing gently as energy flared around her digits. The blueness resembled a broad, pointed dagger more than the precision of a scalpel, but Sasuke knew that she could change its shape and thickness as necessary. Precision wasn't a problem. She touched the tip of the ghostly tool against Sasuke's arm, and he felt the sting of chakra against his skin like a tiny tickle. The pain was so slight as to hardly be pain at all. He was alerted by his instincts; his Rinnegan nearly kicked in by automation in order to absorb the burning sharpness of the chakra extending from Sakura's fingers, but he managed to resist the urge of his defenses and he kept himself completely still. It was more difficult than he thought; his combat reflexes were oftentimes stronger than his conscious senses, but he trusted Sakura. He knew that she wasn't going to hurt him. She was helping him because they had been through a lot together and their friendship had never died.

Sasuke winced. Not because of the pain that was beginning to manifest, but because he knew that he was once again going to change. Although it had been an inconvenience, his missing arm had been a part of him—rather, it had been the _lack_ of a part of him—for years. He had grown accustomed to the absence, although he never felt as if the extension of himself had been truly gone. The nerves could still feel, and the weight sometimes registered to his brain without reason. He sometimes, though rarely, managed to forget the fact that his muscles, bones, and skin were missing from that part of him. As the pink-haired surgeon guided her subject's half-arm over the empty table, she began to earnestly go to work upon him. As she started her work upon him, Sasuke could feel tiny slices of his skin falling away, but there was no blood yet—the rounded stump was mostly dead and hardened, barely containing nerves or any other traits that would classify it as being alive. Yet he could feel it because he imagined feeling it. He remembered what it was like to be cut; to feel physical pain. It had been a long time since such a thing had happened to him. His guard had been suitably lowered, and Sakura's scalpel was carving into his shape to reform him. There was no going back after that. The operation had already begun. Sasuke shut his eyes again and he whispered: "I can still feel it, Sakura."

Sakura blinked, momentarily pausing her process and pulling her chakra away from his skin. Even though his defenses were lowered and the tissue was dead, she was still having trouble getting through it with her own power. "Sorry, but I did tell you that it was going to hurt," she uttered with a smile that seemed guilty. "It's not too much for you, is it?"

Sasuke shook his head. "No, that's not what I meant...I can still feel it. Almost like it's still attached." He flexed the fingers of his left arm, and he felt them clench, felt the muscles become tense. He even felt his fingernails digging into his palm, though he knew for certain that nothing was there. He had realized years ago that he was genuinely incomplete, yet somehow his nerves had never gotten to be on the same page as his conscious thought. "I feel like I never lost it to begin with."

Sakura gave a slow nod. "I see," she hummed, then she resumed her work. "It's not uncommon. That feeling should go away as soon as the new one is in place and properly adjusted." As she spoke, she urged Sasuke to rest his arm against the table for stability's sake, and he obliged with a slight bend of his knees and a hunch of his back. "Normally I'd reserve an operating room and have you lying down, but I don't think that's necessary—and it would take a long time to set up. We've got lots of non-emergency operations on the waiting list; weeks of backlog."

Sasuke nodded. His posture was lowered and the metal of the table felt cold against his elbow, but he didn't complain about it. "Speaking of the waiting list, I don't think the others appreciated the fact that you gave me special treatment down there," he remarked. It was a small thing, but it had been bugging him.

"Those people," Sakura said with a slow breath, concentration running ripely through her words as she cut more and more flesh out of the way. A small pile was accumulating within an aluminum tray, with each new piece adding shape to a pyramid of Sasuke's unneeded skin. "They're just going to have to deal with waiting a few extra minutes. If there were to be an emergency, I'd tend to it personally—but most of the people here now are looking for checkups and physicals. A lot of them are making preparations for the tournament, you know?"

"I still think that I should have waited," Sasuke murmured, unsure of himself. Although he was comfortable around Sakura, he noted that he felt very different with her as compared to Hinata. His teammate was willing to listen, but she almost seemed...detached. Like she heard him and responded to him, but there was no deep understanding. Even so, he voiced his concerns."I don't like the looks they were giving me."

Sakura pursed her lips and sighed through her nose. "Well, I'm the one who took you before your turn was up. If they're upset, let them be upset with _me_." The aroma of dead cells being locally seared and severed by chakra continued to rise from Sasuke's arm as Sakura spoke. She had at some point pulled her papery green mask over her face, but Sasuke didn't see when it happened. She continued to speak as she got closer and closer to being finished with the first step. "The burden isn't entirely yours, nor should it be. Naruto, me, and especially Kakashi-sensei each get a lot of grief over our support of you. It's nothing new, and nothing to worry about." She looked at him with genuine concern in her eyes. "The longer you stay here, the more accustomed to you they'll get. It's still new to them, having you around in the flesh. To some of the veterans of the war, you're like a walking nightmare, a reminder of the Uchiha—of all the things that Madara and Obito did to the world. It's likely that they can't wrap their heads around the fact that you're not the same as those two were."

The thunk of excess tissue hitting the table punctuated her statement, and Sasuke looked to the ceiling in thought. It was plain and white, with fluorescent tubes providing light from behind square panels of foggy, distorted glass. "For a while, I wasn't different from them. Do you think I've changed forever, Sakura?" Again, he squeezed his absent hand. If all went well, he was going to say goodbye to that part of him and accept a brand new one.

"I think that's up to you," Sakura replied with a little bit of tension. She was getting closer to the nerves and veins, and the potency of her chakra was refined to a tiny sliver, smoothly sharpened along the edges. She dug deep, rooting out the last vestiges of lifeless flesh and dropping them into the pan. "Hold completely still. This is the hard part." She reached under the table and produced a sheet of white plastic, laying it out on the table and setting Sasuke's arm upon it. "Messy, too; don't freak out if you see blood."

Sasuke nodded and complied in silence, taking one slow breath and then holding it. His body no longer moved. Even the beating of his heart was so slow and controlled as to produce not a single tremor in his chest. He became a vision of stillness, and Sakura looked at him with a slow blink. She was surprised, even after everything she knew about him, that he had achieved such control over himself. She started to shape the surviving flesh into a manageable attachment point. Little pinches and pricks came into the edges of Sasuke's mind, and the pain was very real. No longer was he imagining things. His mind screamed at him to deflect the 'attack,' to eliminate the person causing his mild discomfort. Even though the blue blade was slicing along his reddened, lightly-bloody stump and carving a groove against his lingering bone, he did not wince. "You're very good at this," Sasuke commented quietly.

The surgeon didn't pause or hesitate. She was operating off of some sort of preset routine, impossible to change or delay. Quickly and cleanly, that was the mantra—never take more tissue than necessary and never cause more pain than is essential. Yet in Sasuke's case, the damage she caused seemed completely superficial regardless, despite the slow seepage of blood from certain regions. The redness fell upon the plastic tarp underneath with a slow tapping sound, and she looked up at her patient's face to gauge his discomfort. Nothing. Stone cold, and completely silent aside from his oddly kind compliment. "I've had a lot of practice," she hummed to him with a shiver of embarrassment. With one last brush of chakra across Sasuke's upper forearm, she smoothed him over and deactivated her scalpel. She shook her hand from side to side to clear the vibrational numbness out of her nerves. "Good job, Sasuke. You make an excellent patient." She smiled at him and then turned around, finding the sink in the corner—every room in the hospital had one, as well as soap or sanitizer, because cleanliness was extremely important when dealing with open wounds and potentially infectious diseases. Though her scalpel was the primary point of contact, it was hard to keep one's fingers completely clean when so much blood was involved.

Though the procedure was only half-finished, Sasuke already felt different. Standing there over a makeshift operating table with his arm cut down to a sheer, flat surface, he thought for a while as Sakura cleansed herself with water. He didn't look too closely at the details of his stump—he knew what it looked like when a person's arm was cleanly cut off, and he didn't need a reminder. That said, he couldn't shake the memories of having initially lost it. He tasted blood in his mouth and felt dust whipping through the air. He heard the roar of a waterfall over his shoulder. He was back there, experiencing that day again. His Chidori had been combined with Amaterasu, and Naruto's Rasengan collided with it. The explosion was tremendous, and yet their bodies aggressively advanced into the cataclysm with no fear. They were both determined to see the fight through to the end—neither one of them wanted to lose, and so neither one of them did. He felt his fingers splay and break, then he felt as each individual atom was incinerated against the potency of the combined powers of Indra and Ashura. There was no blood, at first, because the enormous power of the clash was too hot and too forceful to let anything flow. The pain was unfathomable as sinew was evaporated and bone was dissolved, but Sasuke did not give up, even then. Though his hand had been destroyed, he continued to force chakra through his system, doing everything that he could do to finish Naruto off. It wasn't enough, but he didn't stop. It hurt more and more, and then even _more_ , but then it became nothing. He became nothing.

The next thing he knew, his mind had achieved some sort of clarity. Naruto, that obnoxious rascal, wasn't his enemy after all. He was willing to give his life for Sasuke's own sake, to protect him from the darkness that he had willingly stepped into. As Sasuke experienced that revelation, the blood had begun to flow, dripping down the ruined rock of the Valley of the End and forming into a puddle beneath his paralyzed feet. He was ready to die, then and there, having reconciled with Naruto and having come to the understanding that he didn't need to be cruel in order to be strong. Naruto was the other side of his coin; brash, loud, a bit moronic. Even with his numerous 'problems' and unprofessional mannerisms, though, Naruto was Sasuke's equal. The blonde-headed Uzumaki boy was proof that it was possible to be strong _and_ compassionate. From that point on, Sasuke tried to be more like that. More thoughtful, more empathetic. He failed his first test, though—Sakura wanted to come with him, wanted it more than _anything_. He turned her down and she fell into depression. Yet, because he left her behind, she was able to find love with Naruto. Was that a decision that was determined by fate? What drove him to refuse her company? At some level within his consciousness, he had wanted her to come with him. Instead, he left her to misery and loneliness, but after a long stretch of despair she came to realize that she was in love with the world's true savior. Sasuke couldn't rightly convince himself that leaving her behind was the wrong choice—he wanted to think so, wanted to keep the fires of guilt alive, and yet the end result of his abandonment had made her happier than he ever could have done on his own. The pain along the way was worth it.

Sasuke had experienced pain, too. His life had gone down avenues that he would never have dreamed of following, if not for each and every faltered step that had brought him that way. Every time he stepped deeper into the abyss, it was because a part of his path had been numbed and grayed, altered by a lens of hatred or despair. As a child, he wanted to be a hero—a protector. Danzo's manipulation of Itachi, and Itachi's actions themselves had forced Sasuke to reconsider—urged him to become an avenger. With that singular goal in mind, he did terrible things for the sake of power. Worse than anything else, he abandoned the people who cared about him because he was too blind to see their desperation. They wanted him to stay, but he wanted to become powerful. There is no doubt that Orochimaru was able to make him more powerful than ever before, and yet...perhaps the Sannin's tutelage was not necessary. Could he have become so strong on his own, given the right motivation? Naruto was always testing him, always driving him to improve upon himself. In a sense, Naruto Uzumaki was the true reason why Sasuke continued to seek more and more power. That kid—no, that _man_ —was his ultimate hurdle. With that thought in mind, Sasuke achieved a victorious grin from one cheek to the other, his teeth showing evenly and brightly. Here he was again, improving himself in an attempt to compete with Naruto. Though it was Hinata who convinced him to make himself whole, it was Naruto who made it necessary for him to do so.

 _I owe him a lot,_ Sasuke often found himself thinking. Every day, it seemed that there was more and more to be owed. On top of the sentimental and moral reasons for his appreciation, life for a person like Sasuke would probably have gotten boring long ago if not for the fact that Naruto was always somewhere in the world, representing an ever-open challenge. Sasuke could fight the knuckleheaded-ninja any time he wished, but not as an enemy—not anymore. That was what the upcoming tournament was about, at its core. Beyond fighting to let off steam, beyond bringing in money from other lands to stimulate the economy of Konoha...the tournament was about spreading Naruto's ideals of peace. Combat without animosity. A series of friendly, voluntary matches, not for rank or reward, but for the joy of competition itself. People who were only capable of learning about one another through fierce battle could finally 'communicate' without fear of death or disfigurement.

"Sakura, has Kakashi talked to you about your special role in the tournament yet?" Sasuke pondered as he watched the woman finish cleaning her hands while grabbing a new pair of elastic gloves.

She donned the gloves with a snap against each wrist, wriggling her fingers to check the fit. "Well it isn't just me," she responded as she turned back around and faced Sasuke. "Lady Tsunade and Shizune are going to help out as well, since I'll be fighting too," she noted. "Between the three of us, there shouldn't be any fear of permanent injuries. Lady Tsunade and I will maintain a few pieces of Katsuyu to line the arena floor, so she can provide immediate emergency care in case any match goes too far."

"That should do a lot of good," Sasuke nodded with genuine approval. "Speaking of which, is Tsunade going to participate in the fighting?" Sasuke pondered. The Fifth Hokage was getting older, and although she still resembled a youthful woman and her medical prowess was tremendous, there was no doubt that she was starting to feel the weight of her age when it came to her strength and stamina. "She could probably still make a good impression if she did."

Sakura shook her head. "She's not interested in fighting anymore; she and I had a conversation a while back. I've promised to carry her will into battle and make both of us look good," she winked, bringing her gloved thumb up to her forehead, nudging the deep blue-gray diamond confidently. "Just like Naruto will represent Jiraiya, and you'll represent Orochimaru...well," she hesitated and pursed her lips. "Maybe you can represent Kakashi-sensei. He always gave you more focused training than he gave to me and Naruto."

Sasuke smirked, creasing his lips and huffing a small laugh through his nose. "I think they'll see me as an echo of Madara, more than anyone else." He brought his good hand up to his hair, brushing his fingers through it. It wasn't as long or as styled as the infamous Uchiha warlord, but coupled with his facial features, there was a certain unavoidable resemblance. "It doesn't matter, though—I'm only representing myself. I won't hold any banners or make any declarations."

Sakura got a sly, knowing look in her eyes as her lush green irises glimmered. Even under the blanching fluorescents, there was a stunning depth to her gaze. "Oh, is that right...?" She began to cant her head to one side, tightening a glove down her wrist with an almost-sultry tug while stepping toward her patient. "I thought you said that you were going to win the tournament for somebody else," she recalled.

His visage crinkled, and he was visibly flustered. Sakura was one of the few people who could decode his facial expressions, so she could see the reward of her curiosity plainly on his face. Courtesy of their cooperations and their disagreements in the past or present, the two had come to know each other's facial cues. "That doesn't matter," Sasuke bit down and clenched his jaw. Sakura was pulling a dirty trick, questioning him while she held his future in her curious hands. The Uchiha patient couldn't rightly put the arm on by himself; medical ninjutsu was one of the few things with which he had no proper experience. He had seen it done before, and if he tried to copy it he could probably do a reasonable job, but he didn't trust his own capabilities. Not when it came to something so important.

Sakura set her hands on the table with a metallic clang, her fingertips digging against the unbending surface. "There's no point hiding it from me, Sasuke; I've got a pretty good idea of who you said it to."

With dark eyes open and unassuming, Sasuke looked as nonchalant as he could, but he felt himself cracking under the pressure. Sakura had her ways of getting to him. "You mentioned Hinata when we were on the stairs," Sasuke recalled, trying his best to play it off. "What makes you think it was her?"

"Come on, Sasuke, I'm not dense," Mrs. Uzumaki declared, tapping her finger rhythmically on the table. "At first I was surprised to see you standing in the crowd with her after Naruto and I got home from our honeymoon. She even seemed like she was hiding behind you." She lowered her voice, as if discussing secret intelligence information. She visually checked to see that the door was closed tightly. "I thought it might've been a coincidence at first. Then you two showed up to dinner with us, and I saw the looks you gave each other."

"Looks?" Sasuke asked, not even realizing that he had been giving a 'look.' He supposed in silence that he had been doing a lot of things without thinking since meeting the dark-haired Hyuuga girl.

"Yeah, both of you were looking at each other in a really _warm_ way. That's when I realized that it was a lot more than a coincidence," she teased, looking him dead in the eyes. Sasuke closed his lids and refused to make contact with her playfully accusational stare.

He smirked. "And that's what made you jealous, right?" Sasuke sought to turn the situation around, to gain some ground in the exchange. He wasn't going down without a fight. "Maybe you were imagining it."

Sakura wasn't backing down. In fact, her confidence seemed to grow. "I thought so, too, for a second. That's when I remembered the wedding photo, and it all clicked together." She brought up the crowning entry of evidence in her mind. "You and Hinata looked so much alike in that picture that it couldn't have _all_ been a coincidence."

"We looked alike?" Sasuke blinked. That was something that he hadn't heard before. "How do you mean?" He was too curious to keep playing dumb.

"The smiles you both had," Sakura began to work with the frozen limb upon the table, taking it back out of the wrapping to prepare it for permanent attachment. Sasuke was still bleeding, but only mildly—nothing he couldn't easily survive, even without a tourniquet. She was very precise with her cuts. "It was like you both shared the exact same thought, and formed the exact same expression without even noticing. If I were the gambling type, I'd wager that the two of you had a little moment during the reception, huh?" Individually, none of the incidents would have been conclusive, but in Sakura's mind they were each holding up the other, producing a stable tower with a neon sign at the top. The sign displayed a clear conclusion: _Sasuke and Hinata sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g._

"I think you're reading too much into a smile. I was happy to see everyone; it had been years, remember?" He lied through his teeth and hoped she would believe him, but she didn't.

"Don't give me that, Sasuke—you were completely miserable there and we all knew it." She sighed. "Actually, the photo prints didn't arrive until after you left the apartment the next morning, otherwise I might have said something then." She hoisted the meaty disembodied arm in both hands and turned the open end toward Sasuke. It was pale and lifeless, but it wouldn't remain that way for long. "Now, with your permission I'd like to attach this to you. Do you consent, Sasuke Uchiha?"

Saved by the proverbial bell; Sasuke didn't know if he could take much more of the questioning, especially given that every single thing Sakura had surmised was more or less the truth. He didn't particularly remember smiling in any special way, but if she said so, he believed her. "Yes, I consent," Sasuke replied. He knew that there was going to be paperwork to fill out, payments to make, medical questions to answer, and other sorts of things that went along with a hospital visit—but that could all wait until after the procedure. He had half a mind to skip the bureaucratic process altogether, but he had resolved to become a 'normal' citizen of Konoha, which meant complying with the little things. Except, of course, the little rule about vigilante work. It was one thing to deal with troublemakers as they popped up, but another thing entirely to make it into a one-man crusade like he had done.

With Sasuke's personal consent given without question and with a sound mind, Sakura gave a nod. "Alright, here goes nothing." She sounded very sure of herself, which gave her patient some peace of mind. Not that he was worried about being harmed by her, but he did have some lingering concerns about how well the attachment process would work. He intended to put the new arm through some rigorous trials during the tournament, and with less than a full month to get used to it, he was hoping for a swift adaptation.

Sasuke held his breath and locked his eyes shut, clenching his invisible hand one last time as if to say a fond farewell. That was when he felt the frigid lump of solid bone and muscle suddenly shoved against his open wound. He winced. The cold was an animal altogether different from pain; one never called a doctor's cold hands 'painful,' yet it was an unpleasant sensation all the same. Sasuke's pain tolerance was high, but having what was essentially an ice cube jammed onto bare muscle and bone was a feeling he wasn't prepared for. "Gah," he let off, then clamped his throat shut to keep himself from making any more noises.

Sakura didn't stop—it was too late to stop, and she knew his vocalized discomfort was only an impulse, not a legitimate protest. "Hang in there, Sasuke; almost ready," she murmured. The tip of her tongue was poking out from the left corner of her mouth, and it was clamped between her lips. Once she was certain that the anatomy of the replacement lined up with Sasuke's own sinewy limb, she pushed hard to lock it into place against him. "Alright, Sasuke—push against it, help me keep it tightly sealed to your bone. This needs to be a perfect meld, or it's going to have to be done again." She knew he wouldn't move, knew he wouldn't botch the procedure by fidgeting. She was verbally going through the steps as she did with every patient, though. She found that wounded people often liked to be told what was happening to them as she repaired their damaged bodies. A person's body was ultimately his or her greatest possession; it was the vessel through which they lived their lives. Brain, heart, lungs, limbs, each and every vein and tube—it all came together as one entity called by one name. To the entity that was Sasuke Uchiha, she was adding a pale white arm that was somewhat under-built.

Sasuke could feel the juxtaposition of cold and warmth; Sakura's medical ninjutsu was soothing and comfortable compared to the frigid contact of the arm. One by one, he could feel his veins being shaped and joined with the new limb, and each time he experienced that sensation, new nerves became connected. Little by little, his phantom pain was replaced by a cripplingly-cold sensation. Again he wanted to grunt his surprise, but he kept it concealed as he allowed his doctor to work upon his most complicated systems. Soon, he felt his old arm disappearing forever—as each strip of flesh made from Hashirama Senju's cells latched onto Sasuke's own body, the cells became his. He was no stranger to such transplants, having been healed by Juugo and Kabuto both in a similar fashion, but it was the first time in his life where he truly felt a part of himself being replaced by something else. It was an arm, not just a lump of flesh from his center mass. An arm—with five fingers, all sorts of nerves, and unique fingerprints. Would those prints match his right hand? He thought of all these things while the operation was rather painlessly completed. Aside from the rush of cold that hit him at every nerve ending, the experience was surprisingly pleasant. He had never truly realized how much his absent arm had been causing agony. He knew there was pain, but its constant presence had made him dull to its severity. Then, with a suddenness that nearly made him shudder in pleasure, the agony was gone, and the final ending was connected to the new cells. He tried to move it, but he felt ice in his veins and numbness all along the outer edges of his new skin.

There were still some odds and ends to attach and double-check, but while she took care of the final steps of attachment she had a simple question. "How does it feel, Sasuke?" She looked at him, and the man opened his eyes to peer at his caregiver.

His response was perhaps a bit more grandiose than she was asking for: "It's hard to explain—I've been missing something for years, yet now it's suddenly there again, new by familiar. The throbbing pain is gone, having been replaced with something else—something fulfilling. Have you ever felt that way, Sakura?"

The doctor smirked and gave a confident answer: "Yes, actually—the moment I fell in love with Naruto felt a lot like that."

Was she fishing for a reaction? No, she wasn't playing at his jealousy—they had genuinely moved past that point. Rather, she wasn't looking for that kind of reaction. Maybe she was teasing him, comparing his arm to his relationship with Hinata. He had made the same comparison himself, between the girl and his limb. Sakura's ability to read his mind, whether accidentally or intentionally, was beginning to worry him. "I'm happy for the two of you, Sakura. I'm glad that he's everything you want him to be. You've always deserved a good man like Naruto, and I know you'll have a wonderful life with him."

"It means a lot to me that you would say that, Sasuke. Really, it does." She smiled at him with total relief. Just in time to change the subject again, Sakura heaved a slow breath as the fusion of one body to another was fully completed, and she reached her arm up to wipe the sweat off of her brow onto a dark sleeve. "Phew! Alright, it's done." She looked at his new fingers which were locked closed into a frigid fist, and she tapped along each knuckle with her own fingertip. "Can you feel that?"

He could feel it, though it was the same sensation as touching a foot that had fallen asleep due to sitting on it for too long. There, but faint. "Yes—it's pretty numb, though," Sasuke answered the routine question with a little bit of quiet concern.

"Good, then the nerve connections were a success." She gave the new arm a squeeze around the wrist, not for medical reasons but for emotional reassurance. "We kept it in cold storage, so it's going to be numb until it thaws. That shouldn't take long at all. Next, try extending your chakra into the fingertips; I connected your network as best I could, but it's a complicated process. It may take a while for your capabilities to be fully replenished."

Sasuke gave a nod, still enthralled by the bizarre sensation of numbness mixed with fresh relief. Despite the cold, despite the fact that the new arm was emaciated compared to his own, he realized how much he had been missing himself. He no longer thought of that arm as something else—no, because he felt it like it was his own flesh. It actually _was_ his own flesh. It would belong to him, and to nobody else, for the rest of his life. It would be warm, it would be pliant, and it would be real. He felt a moist tear hit the corner of his eye, but he compelled it to stay behind his lower lid. He willed his chakra to begin pouring into the limb, and initially he felt a blockage, like the energy was being forced through a dense sponge—but after a moment, he could feel the power beginning to circulate as it should. He sighed with relief as the flow began to feel close to normal. It was still frozen, still largely immobile, but it had the _potential_ to be normal after a while. "It's flowing, but it feels like there's some resistance."

Sakura gave another nod, confirming that everything was as she figured it would be. "That's to be expected, too. We erred on the side of caution, so we designed the chakra network to be a bit smaller than we thought you might require. Making the pathways too large would have resulted in huge wastes of power, since more volume would be necessary just to fill the whole channel and create a proper flow. Your particular chakra network is extremely powerful, but even _you_ would be hindered if we made the passages too wide; we didn't really know how best to accommodate your energy, so the channels we made for you will most likely feel tight, at least until everything has grown to match your condition. Think of it like any other muscle; you'll have to work it out every day, but it will eventually fit like a glove. The same goes for the physique itself. It's smaller than the rest of you, but it will grow." She reached under the table again, sliding out a drawer full of miscellaneous tools and general purpose items like cotton and tongue depressors. She pulled out a roll of cloth bandages and unfurled a few inches of its width from the plastic tube in the center. "Until then, we'll wrap it in bandages so that it doesn't look too distracting in public, alright?"

"I think it will be distracting either way," Sasuke joked with a reverent smile, still beholding his new part. For the first time, he flexed his bicep and pulled his limb off the table. He felt the weight, the real weight, and smiled pleasantly. All things considered, the outcome wasn't bad at all. "But if it works for Naruto, it will work for me." He was still trying to move his hand, but it hadn't thawed yet. He had heard worrying things about frozen limbs becoming dangerous as they thawed, but he had always thought the reason to be associated with the blood, which didn't exist in the limb yet. And in fact, the ice seemed to be something other than water—as it melted, he didn't feel or see anything dripping. "Wrap it up," he directed gladly, holding the stiffness of his left arm out to her.

First, she took a towel and cleaned the area at which the two halves met—where skin that was already pale had suddenly transitioned to stark white. There were traces of blood and clear fluids, both of which were gently soaked away by the dabs of the towel's absorbent material. With that done, Sakura carefully used her own hand to urge Sasuke's fist to unclench, and he could feel a little bit of motion pushing through the rigidness. His fingers were pulled away from one another, and the bandages in Sakura's hand were then molded around each digit. The exercise was quick, and he could tell that she had a great deal of experience with the material and the technique of applying it. She talked while she worked, giving him a few more pieces of advice: "If all goes well, you'll be in perfect fighting shape by the time the tournament rolls around. Try not to overdo it. Stick with moderate exercises for about a week, until the tissue has acclimated to your body. That is to say, one week is the average guideline. It could take longer, or it could be shorter. Your judgement is key, here. I'll be glad to reattach it if you damage it somehow, but if it comes to that then the process will start all over again. In short, just try to take it easy for a little bit."

Sasuke gave a nod, beholding his bandaged arm as the wrap was torn away from its cylindrical source and then clinched into a snug hold beneath his shoulder. Sakura had wrapped him all the way up past the bicep for the sake of creating a vision of continuity. She bound him loosely enough that he could still move easily, but tightly enough to prevent the material from falling off. He flexed his hand—his new, real hand—and felt the fingers beginning to move just slightly. Already the immobility was wearing off, and the feeling of once again having his very own left-handed fingers to flex and point and squeeze made him ecstatic. Even the little things like the sensation of the itchy bandage against his wrist made him happy. He had forgotten how it felt to be whole. Most importantly of all, he was naturally left-handed. Being forced to fight with his right hand had actually put him at a disadvantage, however minor it was. As he contemplated his good fortune and return to form, he had a thought and wanted the surgeon's opinion: "Sakura—when Danzo, Obito, and Madara received this type of transplant, they were each able to use Mokuton as a result. I don't suppose it will work that way for me, will it?" Not that he felt like he needed any more power, but having a new set of techniques could have been a nice side-effect.

Sakura shrugged. "Naruto doesn't have that ability, despite having the same sort of cells attached." She started, but that wasn't the end of it: "That said, everyone who's experienced that result had a Sharingan, too, so...who knows?" She seemed to wonder about it, herself. She cleared her throat and ceased her internal speculation in order to give one last 'doctor' speech. "Anyway, we're all set on my end, but there are some things left to take care of for posterity. Paperwork, mostly. I'll send a report to the front desk and you can pick the forms up from there. After that, you can take your time filling it all out. It's mostly just medical records, address information, all the typical stuff. You haven't been to a Konoha hospital in seven years or so, which means there's a lot we need to update."

Sasuke hummed nostalgically. "I'm surprised to hear that my records were kept at all, after what happened to the village."

Sakura gave a soft smile. "We salvaged everything we could get from the wreckage. The most important sets of data—medical information, personnel lists, and mission records—were stored in solid filing cabinets that were locked tight, so most of them survived the attack with only a little bit of folding and soiling. When we found your files, I urged Lady Tsunade to keep them on hand because I hoped that you would come back some day and officially rejoin us."

The maturing Uchiha nodded with regret—each day that he spent within Konoha made him wish he had returned sooner. There were so many things he missed, so many people he should have reconciled with already. He was off to a start, but it was a slow one. "Thank you, Sakura—and I promise that I'll never put you through that much pain and doubt again."

"You had better not," said Sakura while flashing her teeth in a snarky grin. "I'll be the one to knock the sense back into you, if you ever do it again. Naruto has been training me pretty hard, you know." She knocked her fists together at the knuckles, and the playful motion sent a light tremor through the air. She wasn't lying about her training, that much was clear. Whether or not she stood a chance against him was a different story.

"I sort of doubt that," Sasuke smoothly replied without venom, reaching his right hand up to pat her on the head, getting payback for when she did the same to him in the stairwell. "Since you're here, where is Naruto today? Is he training on his own?" He pondered.

"Given what I told him last night, he's probably in Kakashi-sensei's office right now ranting and raving about the whole mess." With a sigh, she looked toward a clock that was mounted near the door to the room. Time had flown quite a bit faster than she planned for; it was already past noon. The early segment of the operation had eaten up quite a bit of her shift because of the special care she took. "Either way, I should get back to work. I'd love to chat some more, but there's a lot that needs to be done before I leave today."

Sasuke nodded. "Do your best, and thanks again. Take care of yourself, Sakura. I'll see you later." With that, he turned to leave the room before she did. He wanted to use his left hand on the doorknob, but his fingers still weren't moving well enough, so he begrudgingly used the right one. The sensation of using his 'old arm' was a bit boring to him. He was itching to make proper use of the new one while the thrill was still fresh—maybe he would use it to fill out the paperwork? Even such a mundane task suddenly had the potential to excite him. Most of all, though, he couldn't wait to show Hinata—to let her feel it, and to feel her with it. He imagined taking her hair in both hands and just allowing the strands to caress his skin. He shivered from something other than the chill that clung to his left arm.

"Goodbye for now, Sasuke—and don't forget to pick up the forms on your way out!" Sakura called out through the door just before Sasuke closed it behind him. She was removing her gloves and re-washing her hands, so she hadn't joined him on the way out. It was easiest for her to let him leave, because if she walked beside him she would probably have gotten sidetracked by another conversation. There were still many things she wanted to talk about. She smiled to herself after the door was shut. She could tell that Sasuke was becoming happy—despite her needling and suspicions, it didn't really matter why, only that it was so.

As he walked down the hall, Sasuke constantly tried moving his fingers, and every time he did so there was slightly more motion. Nothing major—not yet—but it was slowly becoming easier as the warm air was coupled with the interior flow of his chakra to thaw the bandaged appendage. It was additionally stiff due to a lack of use, which was another matter that he intended to quickly resolve. _One week? Not even close._ He set a personal goal to be in top shape within three days as he returned to the front desk and received his paperwork.

* * *

Hinata had left the cemetery some time ago to seek out her team. She had already eaten a somewhat-early lunch, so she was ready to go on the hunt. She activated her Byakugan to scour the village for traces of Shino, Kiba, or Kurenai—though she kept her vision restricted to the outdoors, preferring not to intrude into any homes. She walked under the noonday sun with an easy smile on her face while she looked around. She had no fears at all, for a few reasons—she was surrounded by honest villagers, for one. She rationalized with herself that Shell was only able to set up his ambush because he chose a location within a less-than-wholesome part of town. There was no way that the same thing could happen in a densely-populated area in broad daylight, was there? She thought not. In addition to that, she was no longer worn down. If a fight came her way, she would meet it without any hesitation at all.

After searching the interior of the village and finding not a single indication of her team, she broadened her visual range to extend just beyond the village walls—most of the village's training areas were located past the outskirts, so she started up the ramp that led toward the front gate, walking without a care and putting one foot in front of the other. She found herself feeling restless, though—she wanted to be training. Sasuke had gotten her into the habit of working herself to shambles every single day, only to return home long enough to heal and come back again. The present day was the second one in a row which she wasn't going to be able to train with him, and she felt somewhat unfulfilled as a result. For the first time since Sasuke took her on as a student, she didn't feel sore at all. Not even a little tingle along the backs or her thighs or a tension along her wrists. That lack of soreness felt like a wasted opportunity rather than a pleasant reprieve. Maybe that feeling of longing would have been different if he was with her, but he wasn't.

Eventually she spotted Shino and Kiba occupying one of the fields on the far end of her sight radius, just as she reached the gate and exited into the forested path that ran out of Konoha. She took a step out and inhaled a deep breath—there was a notable difference between the air inside and outside the walls. Crossing the thin threshold was a tremendous difference, and one that she enjoyed greatly. The air felt lighter and the sky seemed clearer. She took a turn off the main path to follow a covered, winding one that took a few turns through dense trees and passed along scraping bushes. After a considerable distance, she stopped just along the edges of the clearing and saw Kiba and Shino standing adjacent to one another—Akamaru was taking a break, lying on his side in the shade with his tongue hanging out. He seemed to be in a pretty good mood, but he had certainly been working hard oo. Kiba himself was definitely sweating, but as always it was hard to read Shino—he stood with confidence and seemed ready for anything, but was he sweating? It was impossible to tell behind his dark hood, high collar, and thick goggles. Kurenai was there was well, initially avoiding notice against a thick tree. She was seated along with Akamaru while patting the dog along his head; she was keeping one eye on Mirai—who was a fair distance away from the group, hopping around in a field of short wildflowers—and she had the other eye on her students as they worked beside one another.

"Don't wear yourself out quite so much, Kiba," Kurenai advised with a voice that held a great deal of authority. She wasn't just a teacher anymore—she was also a mother. She knew exactly which tones got the desired results out of others, one way or the other. "We're only doing drills; you should really pace yourself."

The more outspoken of the two students couldn't resist opening his trap and taking his eyes off his partner to face his teacher. "Drills or not, I'm giving it everything I've got! That's the only way for me to become strong enough to face Sasuke..." Kiba clenched a fist and took an urgently needed gulp of air. He pulled at the front of his dark shirt, letting some heat away from his chest and allowing a cool breeze to flow through. He looked determined, but he was clearly stretching himself thin with whatever exercise Kurenai had given them. The sensei herself was fairly relaxed; she wasn't even in fighting garb.

Hinata cleared her throat from behind the bushes and gave a smile and a wave. "H-hello, Kiba, Shino, Kurenai-sensei, Akamaru, and Mirai!" She stepped into the light and felt the warmth of the sun hit her face after a lengthy trek through shadowed woods. Ears perked and heads turned, smiles hit faces in every direction.

"Well look who decided to drop by!" Kiba exclaimed, putting his hands on his hips and standing tall, head high and fangs bared in a welcoming smile. It sounded like his back cracked along the way, but he kept his poise despite the awkward noise coming from his bones. Yes, definitely overdoing it. "I was beginning to think we'd never see you again!"

"Good afternoon, Hinata," Shino mumbled from behind his collar with the same subdued voice as usual. He gave a nod, then fell quiet again.

Kurenai gave a pleased wave too. "It's great to see you, Hinata—have you come for some training? These two have been working hard so far today, and they've made a lot of progress."

Hinata canted her head and dragged a hand through her hair. On one hand, she was in plain clothes that she didn't want to get dirty in, but on the other hand she had been feeling restless all day. "Yes, I'll join for a while. What are we doing?" She stepped fully into the clearing and set herself in the space between Shino and Kiba. It was almost as if they had left a gap open for her long before they knew she was coming.

The sensei in the comfortable shade gave a yawn and leaned against the tree at her back. Her red eyes were still bold despite the dimness of her seat. "Right now, just push-ups, squats, laps, tree climbing, the basics—you know how it works. When you improve on the fundamentals, every other aspect of your performance becomes stronger as a result." She clapped her dainty-but-stern hands. There was power in her movements despite her unquestionable beauty. Though she was gradually reaching the end of her most youthful days, she hadn't yet passed her prime. Hinata was sometimes jealous of her sensei's effortless beauty, yet she couldn't help but feel beautiful recently as well. When Sasuke looked at her, she knew that she was adored. She knew that he found her to be prettier than the rarest flower, and so much more.

"The basics. Right!" Hinata took a stance, then bent her arms at the elbows. So, Kiba had worn himself out on the simple exercises? He must have worked himself very hard indeed—if one were to ignore Naruto and Sasuke's exceptional status, Kiba was one of the most physically capable shinobi in their age group, coming in just behind Sakura and Lee when it came to raw stamina and endurance. Choji wasn't far behind, but the point was that Kiba had worked himself raw despite being extremely fit. Overdoing it as usual.

"Remember to pace yourself, Kiba," Shino reminded his hotheaded counterpart as everyone took positions. "You won't get very far if you wind up injuring yourself."

"I say do your best, Kiba—let's all be as strong as we can possibly be!" encouraged Hinata, giving her brash teammate the grace of a smile and a nod of approval.

"Easy for you to say, Hinata," Kiba mumbled through his exhaustion, doubled over with his hands on his knees for support. "You've got one hell of a trainer..."

Hinata blushed and cleared her throat, quickly changing the subject. "Kurenai-sensei is a fantastic teacher, Kiba; don't forget that. We're all very lucky to have her." She wondered if Kiba had been telling other members of the team or the village about her training with Sasuke. That part wasn't necessarily a secret, since she had told a few select people already, though she worried about what her father might think if he were to discover it. Thankfully she was protected by his apparent disinterest, for better or worse.

Kurenai smiled at Hinata's compliment and then smoothly declared the next routine. The team nodded in unison and dropped to start doing push-ups—a simple task for a group of shinobi as disciplined and conditioned as they were, but no matter how fit a person was, tiredness would eventually set in after enough repetition. That was the goal. Move until unable to move anymore. Kiba had simply taken it too far, too fast, and was already winded. Hinata actually appreciated the change of pace—she was used to having a sword at her throat for the better part of a day, or being encapsulated by a hypnotically beautiful world of black and red for days at a time, only to 'wake up' and find that only moments had truly passed. She certainly missed those aspects of Sasuke's training, but she knew that she would have them back tomorrow. Until then, it was alright to enjoy the nostalgia of training with Team 8 again.

* * *

Kakashi was seated behind his desk and filing another heavy stack of papers onto a neatly-organized corner pile. He blew a sigh through his mask and ran a hand tiredly through his hair. "Alright, Naruto...let's get this out of the way: I apologize for not informing you of the situation sooner."

Naruto wasn't happy, but he wasn't angry, either. He was mostly disappointed—but not in the Hokage, as it turned out. He felt despair on a deeper level: "I just don't understand why a member of Konoha would turn their back on the village like that."

Kakashi decided not to mention Sasuke, who was the most obvious case—there were extreme circumstances at work, there. However, the Fourth Shinobi World War had created a whole new batch of extreme circumstances, any one of which could create a person with enough bitterness to rival Sasuke at his worst. Any one person could be responsible for the traitorous movement; any prominent group could be the next to turn. Everybody had lost something. "I feel the same way, Naruto, but we can't just wish the truth away. The reality of our situation is what it is. We've kept this problem a secret from the public because it's important that people feel safe within the walls of Konoha—we can't afford for morale to drop any lower."

"How is morale so low, though...? We won the war, we saved the world—we got every major village to commit to cooperation! Things should be better than they've ever been, right?" Naruto was clearly irritated; his fists were clenched and his teeth were grinding. His voice was raspy and strained, ready to burst out of his throat and go on its own ass-kicking spree.

"We've known each other for a long time, Naruto, and you're the leading candidate to become the Hokage in the future, so I'll spare you the rhetoric and sugarcoating and tell you an unfortunate truth: the daimyo are fickle, absent-minded politicians. They're known to change their minds at the slightest suggestion from one of their advisers. During the war, they cooperated. In the aftermath, they jointly awarded medals to the heroes of the conflict—you surely remember the ceremony. All seemed well. Unfortunately, reality has sunken into their heads, and the aftermath of the war has become blatantly apparent—entire nations were ruined by the roots that Madara summoned out of the ground; many of the most affected regions can't even grow crops anymore. People were slaughtered by the thousands. Entire villages were wiped clean off the map by the Juubi's bombardments—and thus numerous sources of physical wealth were vaporized."

"Numerous sources of wealth?" Naruto scratched his head, not sure what that meant.

Kakashi gave a somber nod with closed eyes. "Yes—as it turns out, many of the villages that were destroyed in the attacks were wealthy, productive ones. Whether it was intentional on his part or not, the impact of Madara Uchiha's insurrection is still threatening to dissolve the peace that we've worked so hard to achieve together. The entire world's economy took a drastic hit as a result of the war, and although we Five Kage have been working to get things running smoothly again, each nation's daimyo has begun to panic independently—they're not accustomed to dealing with this problem. There's no longer any money to be made from war, no lands to conquer in order to gain further prosperity. Through continued cooperation we'll be able to fully recover over time, but patience is required. Unfortunately, patience is not the strong suit of a politician." The scar running vertically down Kakashi's left eye socket was a reminder of his old Sharingan, but what rested in its place now was a blackened iris that was relatively powerless. Even still, the Silver Fang was a feared and respected shinobi—no longer the copy ninja, he had come into his very own legacy reminiscent of but separate from his father's. Sadly, that legacy barely meant a thing when compared with the greed of the higher-ups. "Keep this between you and me, Naruto, but I have already received direction from the Fire Daimyo to begin a new war with Kumogakure."

Naruto gulped. "W-what? War with the Cloud? You mean with grandpa Raikage and Octopops? That's insane!" He recovered from his shock and turned it into anger. "I've got half a mind to see this empty-headed daimyo myself and knock some sense into him!" The clenched fist on his right arm looked ready to do exactly that, but Kakashi raised a hand and shook his head.

"The Cloud was hit particularly hard by the war—they're currently the weakest of the five major villages, even despite Killer Bee's presence. The daimyo thinks that we should capitalize on their vulnerability and put your power to use. Fortunately, the office of the daimyo has very little military power of its own, so it relies upon the Hidden Village system to carry out its orders. So long as we don't act, there is nothing to worry about—that's how balance is maintained between the two halves of the country's government. The Kage and the daimyo. At this point, it's all just posturing."

"Aren't you worried that this could become a serious problem if the news gets out? If the other villages hear that there's talk of declaring war, couldn't that war become a real possibility based on preemptive fear alone?" Naruto scrambled the hair on his head in thought. The blonde tufts had started growing long again since his wedding, but he liked it better that way.

"Good observation, Naruto—and normally that would be true, but fortunately for us we've got you. And we've got Sasuke, as well." Kakashi put his pen to a piece of paper, adding little notes and suggestions for improvement before stamping it with his denial and laying it in another pile atop the front left corner of his desk. "None of the other countries will risk going to war, even if we ignore the fact that none of the villages are willing to attack any others for peace's own sake. Fear keeps the world stable—fear of what might happen if _you_ get involved and pick a side. Like it or not, you've become analogous to the weapon that Pain wanted to create—something so powerful and so influential that the fear of its deployment is enough to halt all discussion of war in its tracks. In a sense, Konoha is the keeper of the peace in this current world. So long as we remain committed to cooperation, the rest of the world is all but forced to play along."

A grimace laid itself along Naruto's face, his whisker-shaped birthmarks twitching as his cheeks tensed. "I don't want the world's peace to feel forced—I want everybody else to want it just as badly as we do!"

"For reasons we can't effectively change, there will always be profiteers and opportunists—warmongers who might look at a prosperous-yet-defenseless nation and see it as nothing more than a chance to make their own bank vaults heavier. Selfishness is a plague that has no cure, but at least it has a deterrent—and that's you, Naruto." Another stamp of rejection was placed upon a new proposition. Kakashi must have been in a bad mood that afternoon, because it was very rare for him to turn down so many applications in a single sitting. "So long as you exist, even the rebellious shinobi within Konoha cannot make any grand moves. They must know that as soon as they show their faces in the light, you'll be there to beat them back into hiding. That's surely why they've been so quiet; so careful. Even though we know that an organization exists, we haven't been able to trace any of its members back to a source yet." The Sixth Hokage looked up from his work and peered into Naruto's frustrated gaze with a look of tired determination. "Leave it to me, Naruto—stay in the light so that they never find the courage to leave the shadows. With careful planning and a bit of luck, we'll stamp them out before anybody knows the difference."

"We've been lucky for a long time," Naruto observed, folding his arms along his torso and scrunching his forehead in thought. "I'd hate for all that luck to finally run out at a moment like this."

"Relax, Naruto—with you around, we'll always find a way." Kakashi smiled under his mask, eyes creasing into a proud admiration. "You've become an incredible shinobi—everybody in the world acknowledges you, most especially me. When you're ready, I don't think there will be a single person who argues against naming you Hokage. Once we've reached that point, you can do things your way." His smile turned into a seriousness, his eyes losing their shine. "But until then, please let me do things in _my_ way. I need you to continue to be a symbol of peace; the human face of hope. I know you want to stop this thing as much as I do, but if you start knocking down doors with some kind of vendetta to find the usurpers, it might give people the wrong idea. Remember—most of these people so far have been Konoha shinobi. They likely have friends, neighbors, and family here. Any person in the village could be a sympathizer. Don't let them catch you misbehaving, or else they might spin it in a way that's favorable to their cause and detrimental to your image. With a movement like this, rooted in community and politics, it's not important that they physically defeat you—the goal is to convert as many people as possible to their way of thinking."

"So you want me to sit back and do nothing...?" Naruto obviously didn't like that.

"Only until we know the score. I promise that as soon as we have the chance to deal a decisive blow to this enemy's infrastructure, I'll let you know. Until then, we need to take great care and use maximum discretion. We can't afford to push more people to their side—if Sai's information is correct, then there are already hundreds of traitors in the village. Perhaps many more. That's not conducive to a quick fix."

"Fine..." Naruto grumbled. The corner of his lip was curling with distaste. "I'll behave myself for now, but if it gets any worse you can bet your ass that I'm not going to just sit by and let it happen."

"Nor would I expect you to. If it makes you feel any better, I know for certain that Sasuke is just as invested in solving this problem as you are. But unlike you, he doesn't have a good reputation to tarnish, which makes him much better suited to the task—I only wish that his involvement would be more official. While you're on your 'special assignment' tonight, do you think you could talk to him about that?" Kakashi looked to his right—Shizune had been there all along, humming and working on a few important-but-tedious tasks at her own side-desk. She had volunteered to do the work, and Kakashi knew that she could get it done correctly, so why not? "We've been waiting to hear from him, but he has been growing more and more distant. He doesn't even talk to me anymore, except through Sai."

Naruto nodded, putting on a tough-guy expression that was pretty clearly a forced one. "Yeah, yeah, I'll run it by him."

"Thank you, Naruto," the Hokage affirmed. "Before you go, is there anything else you need?"

"Nah, nothing important anyway. I'll let you get back to work for now, Kakashi-sensei." Naruto still wasn't pleased with the result of the conversation, but he found it exceedingly difficult to successfully argue with Kakashi. He turned and walked out with his hands locked behind his head, elbows pointed out. "See ya later, guys!"

"Bye Naruto!" Shizune called out over her shoulder, and Kakashi simply hummed. The door closed. The fire shadow's aide looked over her shoulder and frowned. "I hate seeing him like that—all bummed out and everything."

Kakashi shrugged. "He'll get over it, don't worry. He's just moody sometimes."

Shizune used the rounded bottom of a pen to twirl her hair, leaning back in her chair and stretching tiredly. "Always has been, but still..." She was going to say more, but there was a knock on the door. A subtle one, a coded one. Shizune's eyes went up to the clock. "Oh, what timing! Your appointment is here!" She sprang up from her seat and hurried to the door, opening it with one hand and providing a welcoming gesture to lead the visitor into the room with the other. "Good afternoon; we've been expecting you!" she cheerfully greeted. The visitor walked in, clad in black robes and wearing a mask that was a clear indication that the guest was a member of the ANBU Black Ops. The mask itself was shaped in the manner of a bird of some sort, with a gently curved beak near the nose level of its wearer and little blue streaks running vertically beneath the eyes, like streaming tears. The curved eye holes of the mask revealed blue-white irises beneath, the only discernible detail of the person's appearance.

Kakashi laid his writing implement flat and set his hands into conjoined fists upon the table. "Welcome," he said customarily. Shizune closed the door and turned the lock. "As you know by now, there has been a recent opening of a position among my guard detail." He pulled a folder out of a drawer in his desk and opened it up. Numerous details about the applicant were listed, and he thumbed over them one at a time. "You were recommended to me by your superior officer, and I've already reviewed your information. I think that you're a suitable candidate to take over the open slot."

The standing masked figure gave a simple nod, arms hanging at their side with hands concealed behind too-long sleeves. Kakashi continued speaking: "I've only got one verification that I need to make before I officially appoint you to the position—could you please show me your wrists?"

The female voice spoke up, light and airy and with a pleasant level of confidence. Not arrogant and not timid. "Of course, Lord Sixth," she obediently lifted both arms, peeled her sleeves back to the elbow, then pulled at the rims of her lengthy black gloves to reveal the pale whiteness of her forearms and wrists. She rotated her hands, showing every angle that could have been requested in a slow crawl. She was completely unmarked.

After squinting and paying close attention to the sides of each wrist, Kakashi gave a nod, sitting easily back in his chair. "Wonderful. Consider yourself hired—you'll receive more specific details via a messenger later tonight, but if you have any general questions right now then I can answer them for you immediately."

The female figure shook her head, the curved beak of her mask swaying left and right. "No questions, my Lord Hokage." She pulled her gloves back into place, dropping her sleeves down as well. She gave a slow bow, then she turned to leave. "Please stay safe until I return."

Kakashi nodded. "I appreciate your willingness to perform this duty. Good help is growing harder and harder to find."

The woman stopped and gave a nod beneath her hood. "Absolutely, Lord Sixth. But in truth, it is I who am infinitely grateful for this opportunity to express my loyalty to Konoha and its rightful leader." She let herself out with gentle steps, closing the door behind her. Silence echoed in the office for a moment.

"She seems... _punctual,_ " Shizune commented through the side of her mouth, a humorous expression on her face. "Do you trust her?"

Kakashi shook his head side to side without hesitation; he didn't like the choice any more than Shizune did, but a replacement had to be found sooner rather than later. "Not at all, but she's the only one with the proper qualifications who is also available for work. Because of the heavy losses sustained during the war, there are only three surviving members of the ANBU that I trust implicitly," He counted off each name with a lifted finger as he spoke them. "Sai, Tenzo, and Yugao. Sai is already on staff, Tenzo is busy aiding the construction efforts, and Yugao is currently serving as one of the bodyguards for the Fire Daimyo. We make due with what we have—possessing a fully-rounded guard detail is essential, but skilled shinobi are in short supply."

"You'd think that with such a shortage of skilled shinobi, there would also be an abundance of unaccepted missions," Shizune mused, though as always she knew the truth behind it. She was doing what she often did—coaxing her Hokage to turn his gears, to run thoughts through his head. She enjoyed watching him work.

"Mm, I agree...but that just goes to show how dire our outlook really is. We can't easily make our livings as soldiers any longer. We have a shortage of skilled warriors and an abundance of mediocre ones, which creates an awkward imbalance. We're lucky that Naruto and Sasuke are on our side—without them, this just might be the weakest that Konoha has ever been. The upcoming generations are showing spectacular promise, but they're not quite there yet."

"Mm, but Naruto and Sasuke, the two of them are each individually more powerful by themselves than any of the current villages—if they really wanted to, they could destroy this world and nobody would be able to stop them." Despite the chilling implications, Shizune smiled and chewed on the back of the pen she had been twirling. "But they're good men—both of them. That's why we're lucky. That kind of power could have easily fallen into the wrong hands, right?"

"Right," Kakashi agreed wholeheartedly, hands busily sifting through folder upon folder of backlogged information. One of those hands reached for his stamp, and he tried to label a document with it but the red ink was all used up from the pad. He was about to ask for a replacement, but before he opened his mouth Shizune was already standing there in front of him with a fresh one and a smile. He smirked and accepted it with a cupped hand. "You make my job a lot easier, you know."

"It's what I'm here for, Lord Sixth," she replied with a wink before returning to her own desk. Kakashi could replace an eye and he could replace a traitorous bodyguard, but he knew that a partner like Shizune was one of a kind.

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 **I hope you enjoyed the chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it! As always, the continued feedback I've received from all of you is amazing. Let me know what you thought of it by leaving a review or sending me a PM, because I love reading everything that you have to say. Long or short, every single drop of feedback (positive or negative) is infinitely appreciated! See you next time.**


	37. Worth It

**Enjoy!**

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Hinata and her team had been training for what seemed like hours, yet the long-absent Hyuuga girl wasn't growing winded like they were. She was deliberately keeping pace with them, moving in the same way in the hopes of mirroring their progress, but she was left feeling unfulfilled. Her face was blushed a tad by the fact that Kiba and Shino were panting and she was not. Sweat beaded on her brow, but it was the fault of the afternoon sun, not the strenuous paces Kurenai had been putting them through. Hinata found herself in a tree, seated on a dead branch with no leaves high above the meadow that served as their training area. Kiba and Shino were in the same tree, tagging out of the race as high as they could reach after exerting so much chakra.

Kurenai clapped her hands together one time far below, the sound reaching Hinata's ears with a faintness that gave away just how high she had climbed. That was the signal to return front and center, and with a graceful tip of her thighs and hips, she slid off the tree and free-fell all the way down, landing in the grass after a second or two with a thunk that spread a few wafts of dust from her feet. Kiba and Shino came next, with Kiba in particular landing hard on his shoulder after losing balance halfway down.

"Grah!" Kiba snarled, rubbing his shoulder and squirming in place. "Damn it all!"

Kurenai puffed a sigh, folding her arms with disapproval. Shino and Hinata stepped aside, opening a clear path leading to Kiba in silence as their sensei moved to lecture him. "This is why you should be pacing yourself, Kiba—you pulled a muscle on the way up, didn't you?"

He didn't answer, but the blush and clenched jaw gave it away. Shino spoke up after that: "We aren't trying to hold you back, Kiba. That's because we know exactly what you're capable of. I think perhaps that you're overestimating your abilities, and that's why I have—"

Kiba barked a wordless interruption, and he brought himself to his feet without wobbling. Though his arm was limp after the shock of impact to his shoulder, most of his other muscles were still perfectly intact. He looked a bit pitiful being half disabled like that, but gradually his feeling returned and he flexed his fingers. He looked irritated. "Look, I don't want you guys trying to police my training pace. I've said it already that I need to work as hard as I can, or else Sasuke is just going to walk all over me. I'm going to get one good hit in...at least one. Enough to rattle his jaw, crack his teeth. To make him think seriously about me."

Hinata knew how hard that would be. She had been trying to land a good hit on Sasuke for over a month, yet she had never come any closer to rattling him than he had allowed her to. Even after all of her training with him, she knew that she wasn't a single degree closer to matching his level of strength, speed, and cunning. "We understand, Kiba." She moved over to him and laid her gentle hand on his shoulder from behind, then pressed a stern surge of chakra through the joint to relocate the bones and crack them back into proper place with solid pressure. "But we worry about you."

As his socket was forcefully realigned, Kiba's jaw clenched and his face turned a bit red, but he refused to grunt in pain; after the shock and audible crack subsided, he had regained full motion and tested it by raising his hand to give a thumbs up. "Ahem...thanks, Hinata. I was alright, though." He grinned with forced confidence, the light of day sparkling off his teeth. "You're looking really good today, by the way; you've been moving faster than us and you aren't even winded."

It was true; Hinata wasn't panting like Shino and Kiba were. The sweat was superficial, and her muscles didn't burn with fatigue like theirs. Sasuke had really been putting her through the wringer, and she had adapted so well that she never realized how much more conditioned she had become compared to before. "It's nothing, really," Hinata modestly tucked some of her hair to one side, looking toward Shino. "You two have been at it a lot longer than me, that's all."

Kiba didn't accept that answer. After catching his breath, he stood straight and brought himself into a ready position, smothering her with his eagerness. His clawed fingers were flexed and his arms were held out to both sides. "That's not it...you're different now; you _feel_ stronger." He grinned and cocked his head, looking confident and aggressive. "I think we should spar, Hinata—let me see how much you've improved under your new teacher." He seemed jealous in more than one way—was she stronger than him, now? He figured not, but he needed to know for sure.

Kurenai's eyes narrowed in the shade. _New teacher? I wonder who it could be._ She folded her arms, settling against the tree and looking at both Hinata and Kiba. Predictably, the Hyuuga girl took a step back and shook her head, trying to modestly deny the proposition with classic hesitation. Kurenai thought that Kiba had a point, so she spoke for selfish reasons: "Kiba's right, Hinata. You've been missing our training sessions, so I'd like to be sure that you're progressing the way you should be. Whether you have a new teacher or not, I am still officially accountable as your sensei and team leader." she wanted to see Hinata's improvements, too—after watching her train for an afternoon, it was clear that Hinata was in far better shape than ever before, so for curiosity's sake her long-time mentor encouraged the conflict. She peered over to Shino, who was silently disgruntled. He had been interrupted earlier and was still steamy about it. "Shino, could you get Mirai and come over here? Let's give them some room to move." The hooded Aburame—who never seemed to shed his jacket, even as the days grew hotter and hotter—complied with a nod and fetched the young girl from the nearby flower patch, holding her hand to lead the wobbly steps to her mother.

Hinata was flustered by the turn of events, looking from person to person and finding little opportunity to protest. "I don't know if I should fight, though." She was practically whispering to herself. What if she got hurt? What if Sasuke came to see her, and she was busy sparring? Would he have felt betrayed if he found out that she was training with another person? _Pull yourself together,_ she chastised her own mind with a rough shake of her head. _He's not that petty. He'd probably be proud of me for training even when he's not here to guide me._ She smiled to herself; she wanted to make Sasuke proud. Still, she hesitated to fight, shaking her head. "You're too strong for me, Kiba—besides, I'm not dressed for combat!" She smiled reluctantly with the hope that her reasons would be enough, but she suspected that they wouldn't be. Her bright yellow shirt was dirtied by tree bark and grass stains already—what would a few more matter?

The young Inuzuka flexed his claws, cracking the joints of his knuckles with movement alone. "Come on, stop making excuses Hinata...I've gotten bored of sparring with Shino. He's always holding something back, and I've been wanting to go _all-out_." Kiba had a look akin to bloodlust, but it was ultimately an insincere seriousness. He was famously blusterous, but he never meant anything by it. Not with his friends, anyhow. "So, are you going to forfeit before we've even started? I'll bet Neji'd be pretty disappointed if he saw that..." He was goading her, a tactic that never worked on the meek young girl of the past, but one that struck a volatile chord within the well-developed woman who had taken her place.

Hinata's expression turned steely, at first bothered by the invocation of her late cousin's name, but quickly replacing her offense with contemplation. Maybe Kiba was right; Neji deserved to see how strong she had become. "Fine, then. If it's what you want, then I'll fight with you." She took a stance, slowly spreading her feet out and putting her arms in a defensive hook, bent low near her stomach. "Kurenai-sensei, please signal us to begin." Her face drew into focus, her smile vanishing and her eyelids hardening into a narrowed stare.

Kurenai nodded. With Mirai secure in one arm, her other one was raised up with a flat hand extended out. She held still and created some theatrical suspense while the two fighters stood entirely motionless with anticipation. Although Hinata was initially the hesitant one, Kurenai observed with wonder that Kiba was the one who now seemed nervous.

Kiba swallowed a gulp as he anticipated the signal, taking that moment to get a good look at his opponent. _That stance,_ he thought as new beads of perspiration began to trickle along his face and down his chin. _It's not like before...she's got steadiness like I've never seen._ He looked to Kurenai through the corner of his eye, waiting for the signal; Akamaru was over there, too. The hound was still tuckered out and not really invested in the spar; certaintly not going to be of any use.

Hinata's thoughts were refined, forcing her mind to release any absent-minded worries or hopes. She was focusing solely on her opponent. Her Byakugan had tightened into activation, veins gently raised along the perfect skin of her face. Her breaths were steady, her mouth closed flat like a resting coin. She could potentially see _everything_ , but she focused her view on two spots in particular—Kurenai's tentatively hovering hand, and Kiba's quivering knees. He seemed unsure of himself, and Hinata couldn't understand why. Wasn't he the one to suggest the spar to begin with?

Kiba nearly changed his mind after seeing the woman's confidence, but before he could open his mouth to say so he heard Kurenai's hand cut through the air; a bellow of ' _begin_!' escaped from her lips to echo in the empty field. Kiba tensed, and within a single breath he started to burst into action—he knew it was too late for regrets now. Across the clearing, Hinata was watching, waiting—refusing to make the first move. If there was one thing Kiba knew for sure about Hinata's fighting style, it was that she was prone to hesitation. With that in mind he decided to approach quickly, hopefully catching her off guard while she remained mentally unsure about the battle.

Hinata concentrated on keeping her breaths. She saw that Kiba was coming, but he was moving rather slowly. Was he testing her, perhaps? She kept her eyes open and waited. He was getting closer; gaining speed with each step. Still, he was slow. Perhaps he was feinting, trying to set up an ambush from another angle. Her vision was spread far and wide, but she hadn't seen him create a clone. Could there have been a trap laid for her, or was Kiba really going for a straight-on assault? Hinata allowed him to reach her within the span of a few steps; she could see that his arm was pulled back, then he launched it outward to throw a simple punch toward her chin. With a deftness that far surpassed the expectations of the observers, she ducked beneath the arcing blow and caught her attacker's momentum by the wrist with a strong hand. Rising into a standing twirl she flung her weight against his chest and pulled at his arm, effortlessly hoisting him over her shoulders and—once she released his wrist—sending him flying past her position overhead. He didn't slow down, but he did lose his footing. He was upside down, thrashing through the air and howling out with surprise as he was discarded into a thick pile of bushes along the outskirts of the clearing.

A rustle of leaves and snapping of branches accompanied Kiba's hard fall, and for a moment he disappeared beneath the green coverage. He panted in the dark, keeping himself hidden, though he knew that the Byakugan could see him. _What the hell was that? I never even felt her touch me...it's like I was picked up by the wind._ He glanced down at his wrist, and he felt a slight throb against the base of his hand. He had been grabbed there, but he hadn't even _felt_ it, let alone seen it. _Just how good has she gotten?_ When he looked at her through a gap in the leafy bush, his jaw fell open in paralyzed shock. _Now I know why she seems so different..._ He looked directly at her, but rather than seeing Hinata's own poise and preparation, he saw someone else—someone sinister. There was a darkened silhouette of Sasuke Uchiha laid over her frame. Kiba saw her as a copy of the traitor; when their faces overlapped in his imagination, Kiba saw that they were identical—cold and removed, thinking about nothing other than the battle, and then planning three, four, even five steps ahead. Kiba wasn't impressed anymore—he was pissed. How dare Sasuke take Hinata and turn her into that? It was like plucking a flower and planting a crude iron imitation in its place. It was a matter of principal, then—he had to win. He had to prove that she was going down the wrong path. Plus, fighting a student of Sasuke's would be like fighting the man himself—a good rehearsal.

"Not bad," Kiba spoke from the bushes, huddling low to the ground and pretending that Hinata couldn't see him. He flexed his hands together to form a seal and then clapped them onto the ground. The sound of his chakra flow echoed in his ears and he knew that the preparations were complete. "I'll admit that you've got good reflexes, Hinata, but don't celebrate yet—I wasn't even trying."

Hinata took a break from her stern expression to smile softly. "You're testing me, isn't that right?" She was looking into the bush where he was hidden—she had seen his hands weaving seals. Perhaps it was a distraction, a ruse to make her focus on him. With that in mind, she kept her vision expanded in search of any pitfalls he might have set. She had no intentions of letting herself be taken by surprise. It was only a spar; if she were to lose, she wouldn't shed a tear. But since she was locked into the situation and was being evaluated by Kurenai, she decided to put forth a good effort. With this in mind, she invited him to try a little harder. "You don't have to hold back so much, Kiba. I want to see you at your best."

Kurenai scoffed lightly from the side. She kept her analysis to her own thoughts, not wanting to create tension. _Kiba says he's holding back, but I can see the truth—he was trying to rush her down with all of his might, but he had no capacity to react to her movements. Maybe it's because he's worn out by the drills, but Hinata tossed him aside like a losing lottery ticket._ The contemplative teacher looked to Shino, who seemed surprised by the outcome too. Kurenai could read him through his coverage like nobody else, though—he didn't look surprised enough. In fact, he looked like he knew something about Hinata's mysterious new teacher just like Kiba did. Kurenai felt excluded. _What is it that they aren't telling me?_

Kiba sprung out from within the bush with a brief rustle, landing a few paces out from the dense greenery. There was a scratch on the side of his face; not bleeding, but definitely reddened. He took a stance again, though he didn't rush in the same way as before. Like the last time, he could see that Hinata was waiting for him and would have cast him away just as easily if he tried the same tactic. When Hinata was looking at him, he felt stifled even though she was smiling—her gaze held the weight of Sasuke's. Kiba couldn't pick up Sasuke's scent anywhere nearby, and that meant that the uneasy feeling in his gut was coming from her, and her alone. He couldn't bring himself to risk attacking first only to be countered again, but he didn't want to call it a draw, either. Only one option left at that point: "Alright, Hinata...I made the first move. Now it's your turn to make the second."

Hinata narrowed her eyes. _I guess it's fair to take turns. It's just a spar, after all._ She knew about the trap he had set. Her Byakugan could see its components clearly, once she focused on the search. However, knowing that a trap exists is not the same thing as being able to deal with it. She took a breath and remembered Sasuke's teachings. _Remove the advantage._ Easier said than done, given that she was being goaded into attacking a man who had laid a rather fearsome trap. She could refuse to go next, but she felt an urge in the back of her mind that convinced her to test herself. _Let him spring the trap; I can handle it._ Her first step was slow and purposeful, a signal that she was accepting his challenge.

Kiba smirked as Hinata stepped out of her 'bubble' of defense. He knew that if she was on the move, she would be less able to do whatever she had done to toss him away. He knew that the Hyuuga style involved free-flowing reactions with a defensive focus lingering in one location—urging her to go on the attack was the only way to nullify that advantage. Neji may have been a marvelously capable fighter both while standing still and while moving, but Hinata was always weaker on the offensive side of things than the defensive. Perhaps it was a dirty trick to use his long-time knowledge of her fighting style to coax her into making a mistake, but it wasn't about her anymore—it was about her enigmatic master. Defeating her would be a blow to Sasuke's ego. "That's what I'm talkin' about!" he howled as his opponent took a second step. "Come on, show me something impressive!"

When the third step came she was instantly upon him; the gap of meters was closed with a blink and Kiba hadn't been able to shut his mouth before he felt his ankles sucked out from under him. He faced the sky as he fell downward and lost his sense of orientation. He caught her scent powerfully, and he knew that she was physically there; he wasn't being assaulted by ninjutsu, so how had she moved so fast? It really wasn't clear. He felt his back upon the air, and his hands reached down to grasp at thick grass as he fell, finding a hardness to land against. He caught himself with stiff arms and propelled himself backward to frantically grow distant from her. When his vision found Hinata's yellowed form, he saw that she had been in position to land a second strike, but she had hesitated to finish the fight. She could have throttled him hard into the dirt with her raised elbow before he caught his balance—and Kiba _knew_ that she could have. So, why didn't she? Kiba understood, and that was his advantage. Hinata was soft and kind, plenty prone to holding back against her friends and fellow villagers. For all the strength and speed she had so miraculously attained, her weaknesses were the same as ever.

Hinata stood in plain sight with her elbow raised up. Kiba had given way to her ankle sweep as if he had been an empty paper bag. _I saw the shock on his face—he had no idea what was happening to him._ When she stood up, she was already prepared to drive her elbow into his chest mid-fall and pummel him into the earth, but she had stopped. She had seen him falling—she perceived the way his individual hairs flapped chaotically in the sudden shift of wind and gravity. The stillness of Kiba's descent had grabbed her, forced her to cease. Kiba escaped while she considered what had happened, and during her moment of confusion and concern her adversary raised his hands to trigger the trap she had stepped into.

"Here's a new trick!" Kiba exclaimed brashly, assuming that Hinata was too stunned by his quick retreat to give chase or respond to the coming assault. He found his confidence again: " **Earth Style: Chomping Vacuum Jaws!** " The ground trembled; suddenly there was an explosion of grass and mud that shot upward from four points around Hinata. The opened points didn't make a perfect square; the shape was more rectangular in nature, resembling a dog's open mouth. From within the tunneled holes, four silvery-white drills emerged like writhing tentacles. First they ascended, then they curved downward from all sides, closing in on Hinata from above while maintaining their twisting violence in every direction. She had no way of escaping; the whirling winds that passed between the pillars of alternating rotation created a suction that would prevent her from dashing through the gaps. Hinata was surrounded by four vicious tornadoes made of fangs and claws.

Kurenai and Shino were gasping on the sidelines, eyes wide. The sun was blotted out by the expansive size of the technique, and Kurenei was shielding Mirai with one arm and her own eyes with another. The rush of air was intense, thrashing the grass and tree branches all around the clearing. Neither of the spectators could see Hinata amidst the chaotic eruption and constant gyrations of the tilting spires. Kurenai once again let her thoughts run. _To think that he had enough chakra left over to perform a technique of this magnitude...Kiba, perhaps I've been underestimating you after all._

Kiba seemed pleased; the technique was executed perfectly. He played its steps over again in his head: _First, I hid four shadow clones underground. Once they were in position, I only had to wait for Hinata to reach me. After I got away from her, all four clones erupted at the same time, each performing the Tunneling Fang technique. She's trapped in place by the resulting winds, and the full brunt of the attack is coming from four sides at once. She hasn't mastered Neji's rotation, but even if she had...the rotational force of my attack would be too much for her to overcome. She may be able to move faster than I expected, but now she's trapped. She'll see that I'm not some pushover like Sasuke thinks I am!_

Within the cacophony of the technique, Hinata felt the pressure of the air shifting left and right, up and down—she felt weight on all sides of her, as if she were being pressed upon by pure willpower. Her Byakugan was assessing the situation, and her shoulders were held steady. An attack on four sides with barriers of natural wind between each physical blockade. The four conical assaults were curving downward at a swift pace, Hinata knew...so why did they _seem_ to be moving so slowly? She thought it must have been a trick perpetrated by Kiba, but as time stretched through her mind and she saw the gradual encroachment of the four individual clones, she remembered what Sasuke said: ' _You don't realize how tremendously you've improved. Next time you spar with a friend, take it easy—you'll hit harder than you expect.'_ Could that have been what she was experiencing? Perhaps Kiba was moving faster than ever, but her own condition had improved threefold over him. That was when the attack finally reached her, and with a held breath she closed her eyelids to protect them from the dust and wind that was kicked up. Her vision bypassed her lids just like it bypassed everything else. With clear vision on all sides, she kicked off of one leg to find herself in the air. Without her chakra bracing her against the grass below, she felt the influence of the winds shoving against her and threatening to carry her away. The force wasn't quite enough to deter her, however; the initialization of her leap was quick and controlled.

From the outside, the view was impossible to decipher—Hinata seemed doomed. Kurenai looked to Kiba with a healthy amount of shock. The real body of the Inuzuka was standing out of harm's way, forcing his chakra to continue flowing, pumping his influence into the attack to maintain its onslaught. His teeth were grinding together and a vein in his forehead was bulging beneath the edges of his headband. Kurenai passed Mirai over to Shino, who took the child instinctively and kept her hidden behind the loose sleeves of his overcoat; the toddler didn't seem too disturbed. In fact she seemed to enjoy the spectacle.

Kurenai was up on her feet, leaving the shade of the tree in an attempt to reach Kiba and force him to call off the technique; she shouted his name but went unheard. She aimed to rush him and interrupt his concentration, but before she had taken the second step of her sprint, there was a sudden explosion of mist coming from the center of the clearing. White clouds puffed violently around where Hinata had formerly been swallowed up by noise and violence. With an instantaneous and conspicuous removal of sound, there was no longer an attack at all. Kiba was stunned, Kurenai was stunned, Shino was stunned...and Hinata stood at the center of the small crater left behind with a stern look of confidence. Her hair was disheveled by the wind, but there wasn't a mark upon her face or body to be spoken of. A few residual crackles of blue-white energy— _lightning_ —arced off of Hinata's arms as she took stable breaths and stared Kiba down.

Silence continued for a moment and Kiba swallowed the lump in his throat. _There's no way,_ he thought. _My technique is supposed to be unbeatable._ Then he saw the lightning and snarled, another obnoxious reminder of Sasuke Uchiha. The anger roared up in him again; it wasn't fair that she ran to Sasuke instead of coming to him. Team Eight was supposed to _stay_ Team Eight; all the highs and lows, all the growth and progress were supposed to be shared. Yet Hinata had abandoned them, preferring a traitor (rather, a monster) to the company of her longtime friends. More and more, Kiba grew convinced that something was unnatural about Hinata's recent behavior. She was certainly being manipulated and didn't even know it. As the dust settled the first one to speak, as usual, was Kiba himself: "Lightning...is that a trick you learned from _him_?"

Hinata gave a slow nod. She could sense the vileness in Kiba's words; he hated Sasuke. She had hoped that it was only a misunderstanding or a bad impression, but each and every time the man came up in Kiba's thoughts, she could see the disgust like a road sign. There was killing intent. Kiba wasn't just Sasuke's rival any longer—a deeply rooted desire to end the entire Uchiha family bloodline was present. "Yes...he has taught me very well, Kiba." Her voice wasn't meek or subtle. She was tired of his hate, tired of his aggression. "I don't think we should continue." She closed her hands and frowned, exiting her combat stance and looking to Kurenai. "And...maybe I should just go."

Kiba shook his head, clenching his fist. "No, you're not going _anywhere_. Not if you plan on going back to him..."

Hinata furrowed her brows. "I'm sick of hearing that from everyone! How many times have you even spoken to him since he came back!? Do you understand how he feels about this village, about its people? I think you've gotten him confused with a monster from your nightmares. Pull away the shadow of fear, and look at the real thing for once. He's...different."

Kiba's bones were trembling. Hearing those words became too much to bear. "I definitely understand how he feels about us! That's exactly why I can't let this slide...he wants to destroy us all, and he's starting with _you!_ He's even got you lying on his behalf, but the worst part of all is that you _believe_ the lies he forces you to tell! No matter what you say, I know he's the one who's been hurting you...and I'm already sick of pretending otherwise."

"I've told you a dozen times that he's not the one to blame for what you saw..." Hinata's visage darkened; she was fed up with repeating herself. She had hoped that Kiba would be one of the first to understand, but his dislike of Sasuke seemed to override his trust in her. "Why won't you take my word for it?"

Kiba wasn't allowing himself to be convinced or coerced; Hinata could have said the same thing a thousand times and his gut would still churn in defiance because he knew the truth. "You keep choosing _him_ over our friendship, Hinata...I keep trying to warn you that you're making a terrible mistake. How many times can I say that I don't want to lose you before it sinks in...?"

Hinata raised one protesting finger, "You won't lose me—not unless you keep acting this way. You're the only one who's calling an ultimatum. He's not forcing that choice, and neither am I...it's just you. Truthfully, you'll always be my friend, Kiba, but you have to accept that there are other people who care about me...and other people whom I care about in turn. Please stop with this petty selfishness; it's starting to wear on my patience."

"I can't tolerate it, Hinata. I can't watch him corrupt you just because you're too damn gullible to see through the deception!" Kiba was pleading yet furious. "If it means telling some harsh truths and making some stupid decisions, I'll go through with it no matter what the cost—I'm not going to let him have you."

Hinata sighed and took a step forward. It hurt her to know that Kiba no longer trusted her. In a way, she knew the risks of growing close to Sasuke, but she wasn't going to roll over and accept the backlash just because she knew it was coming. There were still flickers of electricity coursing through her, residual shivers reaching her eyes for bursts that were less than a split second long. Those jolts of energy flashed across her pale irises as she spoke. "I've always trusted you, Kiba. I've shared secrets with you even when I knew I shouldn't. You're like a brother and you've always been good to me in the past...but right now?" She fell silent for a few seconds, and nobody else dared to speak. There was a certainty in her voice, a calmness that chilled the blood. "It's hard for me to look at you. You've become ugly with hatred and jealousy."

Kiba stepped nearer as well, looking like he was ready to throw another punch. Akamaru was whimpering from the sidelines, but he didn't get involved. It was a conflict between his beloved master and a cherished friend. He resigned himself to ducking his head and covering his eyes with his paws. Kiba was puffing enraged air through his nose. "What'd you say to me...?" He cracked his neck by thrashing his head to one side, taking on an arrogant posture. "You think I'd be jealous of a bastard like him!? He may have pulled the wool over the eyes of you, Naruto, and the Hokage...but he's not fooling me! Eventually he's going to slip up, and every excuse you've made for him is going to be erased by the truth! Maybe it's petty, but I swear I'm gonna say 'I told you so' as soon as it happens!"

"Why are you acting this way!? Is it because you're jealous that he's made sure that I'm stronger than you are?" There was a little bit of mockery in Hinata's words. She felt that Kiba deserved it. Also, the fact that she had so easily cast aside his powerful new technique had given her a surge of confidence. She no longer had reason to fear his temper tantrums—she realized that she could put him down, if need be.

"Stronger than me? You've got a lot of nerve after getting _lucky_ , you—"

"Kiba, shut your mouth!" Kurenai suddenly declared hotly. She had heard enough. With an icy murmur, she looked at her notoriously-outspoken student and gave an unquestionable order: "Back away from Hinata. The fight is over." Kiba hesitated, but he eventually did as told with a grunt. He gave his teacher a defiant—but obediently quiet—glare. Kurenai ignored him and looked to Hinata. "Hinata, dear...who is 'he?' Who taught you to do these things?"

Hinata was going to answer, but Kiba blurted it out before she could. He had to ensure that the truth was spoken, one way or another. "Sasuke Uchiha—she's been training with a traitor. Maybe she's even _becoming_ one..."

Though the previous conversation had carried numerous clues, Kurenai still couldn't disguise her disappointment after Sasuke's name was uttered. She recovered from the bad taste in her mouth quickly enough to give Kiba a belittling frown before he could say even more disparaging things. "I'm talking to Hinata, not you. Go cool off, Kiba." Despite the brown-haired man's famous temper, he knew better than to go against his teacher's wishes. He backed down physically, but not emotionally. His festering anger was palpable in the air even as he stepped away.

"I'm taking a walk..." Kiba grumpily announced before he disappeared through the bushes. Akamaru didn't follow. The big white dog knew better than to bother his master when he was experiencing one of his moods.

Kurenai frowned and returned her attention to Hinata. "Is it true what he says? You've been dealing with Sasuke Uchiha?"

Even if she had wanted to deny it, Kiba had ruined that plan. Hinata sighed and looked away, hugging one of her arms with the other. "Yes, it's true."

The confession settled in nicely. The girl didn't seem nervous or ashamed, just flustered by the circumstances. "I can understand why you'd want to keep that hidden, but if you told Kiba...why didn't you tell me, too?" Kurenai was a little bit hurt that she was kept in the dark, but she could already guess how it happened. Kiba was as pushy as could be and had probably backed her into a corner. "You should know he can't keep a secret when he's angry, regardless."

"I considered telling you, but I've been stressed and confused, Kurenai-sensei." Hinata bit her lip; it was a poor excuse but it wasn't a lie. "Things keep happening, and I've had to make a lot of decisions that might not have been the right ones..." She trailed off, uncertain of what else she should say.

"So is that why you're training under Sasuke? A spontaneous decision that got out of hand?" Kurenai seemed concerned—she was probably sharing the same reservations as Kiba. She didn't trust Sasuke at all; most of the shinobi in the world didn't.

Hinata's head shook, and she smiled kindly and sweetly. She was positively beaming, though her lips were modestly closed until she spoke. "No—well, yes. It was a spontaneous choice, but it hasn't gotten out of hand. He has...well..." She blushed and pursed her lips. She rubbed her forearm with an open hand. She felt the softness of her own skin against the relative roughness of her fingers. "He's making things easier for me."

Kurenai blushed mildly at that, spotting a particular and telling twinkle in her student's eye. "So you're saying that he's been treating you well?" Kurenai's exotic red eyes turned toward Shino, ensuring that he wasn't listening too closely to the conversation for discretion's sake.

Hinata wasn't too concerned about being heard, though she did keep her voice down. "He treats me _very_ well. It's a little embarrassing, but...I've grown to really like spending time with him." Her voice dropped to a quietness that was low enough to hide from any nearby ears, whether Shino's or otherwise. "He's gentle and kind when things are going right."

Kurenai sensed a warning flag. "And when they aren't going right...?"

Hinata gulped, recalling the unbridled rage within Sasuke's eyes as he took vengeance upon Shell. She knew how it would sound before she said it, but she was still struggling with her honesty problem. "When things are bad, he's...fierce. Frightening. Unstoppable."

The older woman couldn't see any bruises or bumps on Hinata's face—which was especially impressive given the viciousness of Kiba's secret technique. Even without physical evidence, though, Kurenai had to ask a question for her own peace of mind: "When things are bad, does Sasuke hit you?" Kiba's accusations had caused worry.

Hinata shook her head. "When things are bad, Sasuke _protects_ me." She held back her annoyance easily this time because Kurenai had only just learned the situation. It would have been unfair to expect a different reaction so quickly after she heard the news. Kiba didn't have that excuse, which was why Hinata had grown so impatient with him. "Like I said, he makes things easier...even just knowing he's out there helps me sleep at night."

"You haven't been able to sleep?" The velvety voice of Team 8's leader fell softer. "I wish you'd tell me things like this, Hinata. Is there any way I can help?"

"Everything you've said and done so far has helped, actually," Hinata answered thankfully. "I've missed you, Kurenai-sensei. And I'm sorry to have caused trouble today, it's just that Kiba has been hassling me about the time I spend with Sasuke. I've tried to reason with him, and sometimes it even seems like things are going to be okay afterward, but whenever a new day starts he's angry all over again."

"Don't worry, you're not the one who caused the trouble here; that's entirely on him. You know his temper better than most, right? Highs, lows, and nothing in between. He'll probably accept it eventually, but even if he doesn't...that's him, not you. Let him simmer in his own misery if that's what he wants." Kurenai huffed helplessly; the members of the Inuzuka Clan in general were known for their volatile mannerisms, but Kiba was exceptional even among them. She put the thought to bed and focused on something more positive. "That aside, you've really gotten fast, Hinata—all this training you've done is for the tournament, isn't it?"

A nod. "That's right. Sasuke is seeing to it that I'm as prepared as I can possibly be. I didn't really notice my improvements until today, but I think he's done a very good job so far."

It was Kurenai's turn to feel a bit jealous. "A better job than I ever did, by the looks of it. Though I think you deserve all the praise, since you're the one making it happen. No matter how good a teacher is, they can only point somebody in the right direction—it's up to the student to make the changes happen." She gave a sly smirk, closing her eyes and turning her face toward the sun. "I'm glad you're learning so much, regardless of how I feel about Sasuke on a personal level."

"Do you think I'm making a mistake, Kurenai-sensei? I mean, is it a mistake to let myself enjoy my time with Sasuke as much as I do?" Hinata didn't want to hear it from Kiba or Ko, but Kurenai's input was valued. Not only because she was a fellow woman, but because she wasn't prone to knee-jerk reactions. She considered things deeply before commenting on them.

Kurenai put a hand on Hinata's shoulder and smiled with her answer. "I can't judge your choice in men, Hinata—goodness knows that my Asuma was a handful when we were younger." She sighed pleasantly as she recalled some memories of the man, looking over to Mirai wistfully. The toddler was one of several people who carried her deceased lover's will into the future, but nothing could replace his living, breathing presence. "We don't get to choose who we love, or who falls into and out of our lives...where or when, how or why, it's not really up to us—all you can do is follow your heart. I think that's why Kiba's having such a hard time accepting your involvement with Sasuke."

Hinata peered subtly toward the direction of Kiba's departure, frowning at the corners of her mouth. "I know. His heart tells him that Sasuke is a traitor..."

The smile on Kurenai's face was playful, admiring Hinata's capacity to at least _appear_ oblivious. "That's not all, you know. Kiba's heart keeps pushing him toward you, even though he probably knows that you don't think of him that way."

Hinata murmured as she thought sadly about what Kiba must have been going through. She hadn't honestly considered the possibility that Kiba was genuinely in love with her, but it would explain much of his behavior. She had been blaming his jealousy on a conflict of friendship, not of courtship. "If that's true, then I know how he feels. I should talk to him..."

Kurenai shook her head, grumbling slightly. "That's not a good idea right now. He's feeling pretty nasty. _I'll_ go talk to him, to try to calm him down if nothing else. You should probably find someplace else to be in the mean time."

"I think you're right," Hinata smiled sadly. "Thank you, Kurenai-sensei. It has been good seeing you." She turned to Shino and Mirai, raising her hand and offering a wave of fingers. Shino helped Mirai return the wave, both the bug-man and the child remaining silent otherwise. While she might have liked to stick around a while longer, she knew that Kiba was going to cause trouble if he saw her again. She could always seek him out on his own another time and avoid sucking the rest of the team down into their drama. She huffed a sigh and turned to go. "I'll visit again sometime soon."

Though she smiled as she departed, Hinata was quite distressed about her argument with Kiba. She wasn't used to causing such turmoil; she preferred to be quiet and unassuming, parked on the sidelines and watching rather than participating. On one hand, she hated the fact that she angered Kiba...on the other, she felt powerful for having influenced him in such a way. Sasuke had been steering her toward being more assertive and speaking her mind more often, but was it worth doing if it alienated her friends? Were Kiba's feelings really as Kurenai suggested, and if so did he feel for her the same way she had once felt for Naruto? She debated and worried in her mind with each step she took through the forests that surrounded the village. She didn't return to the walls; not yet. She had too much to think about. She also didn't go Kiba's way—she opted to take the opposite direction, forging her own path and eventually leaping high into the trees. She didn't know where she was going or what compelled her to go there, but she loved the natural tones of the wilderness and the easy breeze that passed over her face, chest, arms, and legs. She felt like she was being affectionately embraced by the atmosphere, and her feet continued to find new branches to launch from. She climbed higher and progressed further away from the village and her team. It was an attempt to clear her head, perhaps, but it wasn't working.

The further she got, the more sorrowful she felt. She didn't actually want to distance herself from the people she loved and cherished, Kiba included. Yet there was no denying the fact that she was growing into a different person, a stronger and more confident one. It wasn't exclusively Sasuke's doing, but he was the catalyst who began the transformation. With his confidence backing her, she had begun to do things that were previously unheard of—things like confronting Naruto about her feelings, or defying her father's orders. She enjoyed the rush of emotion that ran through her during those moments, and she couldn't deny that her fight with Kiba provided a few thrills as well. She felt guilty for enjoying those moments—so guilty, in fact, that her eyes began to feel tight and itchy. She could feel a pressure along the sides of her nose, and tears started to form along her lids. She felt her nose begin to run, and she sniffled once. Further and further she leaped, searching for peace amidst the trees but finding only emptiness—loneliness. So why did she continue to jump away? She couldn't answer her own question.

Kiba was furious with her; perhaps she was breaking his heart, as well. The unfortunate thing about her resulting guilt was that there was nothing that she could do about it. _We don't get to choose who we love, or who falls into and out of our lives;_ Kurenai had told her so only a few minutes prior. Was that her inevitable fate with Kiba? Was he going to fall out of her life as a trade-off for accepting Sasuke into it? A tear fell down her face and she sniffled again, feeling her throat swell up as well. She was whimpering with regret. She wanted to return to Kiba and profusely apologize for being so blunt. Yet another decision she made in the heat of the moment without considering the longer term consequences. He usually bounced back from his rage, but did he have a limit? Was he near his breaking point? The more she thought about it, the easier it was to somberly convince herself that she was going to lose his friendship forever. Was Sasuke worth that possibility?

She continued to jump through the forest, feeling her weight rising and falling through the air. Her feet pushed against the planet's pull, and she felt miserable while she sailed. It was supposed to make her feel free, but instead she felt isolated. She took another leap from a high, thick branch, and then with a suddenness that couldn't be quantified she lost the sense of gravity that she had been tethered to. She continued to rise, carried by weightless wind until she broke into the canopy of the forest. When the upward momentum ceased and she began to fall downward again, she found herself to be supported by two strong, warm arms. She was being held like she had been held before, with an arm behind her shoulders and one beneath her knees. She trembled with sudden relief as she looked up to see him.

"Hey...are you alright?" Sasuke asked her with a concerned smile, mirroring her sorrow in his dark eyes while they looked down into her puffy red ones.

Hinata shuddered and closed her eyes, reaching up to wipe the tears from her cheeks and allowing herself to sigh with relief. "N-no, I'm not...but I'm glad you're here." Hinata tucked her head against his chest, her hands rising to clasp around his back and shoulders. She felt both of his arms against her, and she then noticed that they were both _warm_. With giddy enthusiasm, she pressed the weight of her back against his left arm, and she realized that he had been made whole. She didn't comment aloud, simply laying herself against his support and rubbing her muscles against his new limb. Though the arm felt a tad undersized, it was immensely strong, just like the man who had come to possess it. That was Sasuke; all of it was Sasuke. "H-how did you find me?"

Sasuke looked over his shoulder toward Konoha; the village walls were somewhat distant when viewed from their treetop. Hinata had been wandering aimlessly for much longer than she had realized. When the Uchiha spoke his answer, it was with a soothing and delicate voice. "I heard you crying, Hinata..." His focus came back to her face, and he leaned down to lay a soft kiss against her forehead, whispering against the softness of her skin. "I wanted to cheer you up; to make you smile," he soothed, ensuring that she was tightly held. It was the first time he properly used his new arm, and the sensation of her warmth against the fresh nerves was unparalleled.

Hinata's eyes closed and she absolutely melted beneath Sasuke's affection. Her trembling ceased and all the sorrow bled away, replaced by comfort and rightness. She smiled, just like he wanted her to. That was where she belonged; in the arms of a 'traitor,' or a 'monster'—the arms of Sasuke Uchiha. She cared little about the labels which had been assigned to him, because the sound of his voice was more comforting than the chirping birds; the feel of his arms infinitely more reassuring than a blanket of wind. He was what she had been aimlessly searching for in her sorrow. He was the only one who could make it all go away. To a depth and degree that no other person could, Sasuke brought peace to her mind and her body.

She found a definite answer to one of her questions: _Yes. No matter the cost,_ _he's worth it._

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 **Sorry for taking so long (unusually so!) on this one. I can't blame it on school this time, though—too many games came out that I just had to play, so for the past week or so my free time has been eaten up by Starcraft and Battlefront. That said, thanks to everybody who left reviews or added this story to follows/favorites since last chapter. I'm continually blown away by the support and interest this story gets. It makes me feel really great, so thank you all again for that. I always say that I'd write even if nobody was reading it, but knowing that you all are reading it and that you're enjoying it just makes the process a whole lot sweeter.**

 **That's all for now. I'll see you guys next time.**


	38. Splash

**Enjoy!**

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Hinata was cradled exactly where she wanted to be. In a thousand dreams she couldn't have imagined a more soothing place than this one: tightly packed into Sasuke's arms with the tree-top wind in her hair and the springy bobbing of a flimsy branch beneath her carrier's feet. It was altogether like resting in the clouds, high above the ground and without the noise of the city to disturb her thoughts. She relaxed, became putty; she nearly dripped out of his hold, but her rescuer was resolute. He did not drop her, did not let her fall from balance. He allowed her to rest in silence, a weight in his arms that gave him a reason to live; a reason to endure. After a few minutes of simply holding her, plenty of tears had been soaked into his lavender shirt where Hinata had been wiping her face and eyes. She was quiet, then. Calm. Her peace gave him satisfaction, and after the woman had fallen silent, Sasuke spoke to her: "What was it that made you cry, Hinata?"

She shook her head as if to dismiss the problem. To her, the earlier confrontation was muted, pushed back from the front of her thoughts at the very moment of Sasuke's arrival. He was there to save her from her self-pity, her doubts, her disagreements. She clutched the man's chest; his shirt was soaked and salty in her fingers while she shrugged and murmured. "It's nothing, really." She didn't want to create a scene; she saw what happened when Sasuke sought to avenge her against Shell. That time, Sasuke's victim had survived by luck alone, and in truth she didn't know for sure that he _was_ still alive. That incident was different, though—her very life had been at stake, retained by a single thread. Her savior had plenty of reason to be vengeful. She doubted that he would overreact this time, given the minor nature of the conflict, but there was a natural hesitation in her thoughts. _Kiba would definitely make things worse for himself if Sasuke confronted him._ And so she left it at 'it's nothing', hoping for that to be good enough.

Sasuke wasn't satisfied. "You don't need to conceal your feelings from me, Hinata—you can tell me about what happened." He peered down at her, really getting a detailed look at the borders of her clothing. His lids narrowed and he studied the lower hem of her shirt. There were a few superficial rips that took on a recognizable pattern, one that was characteristically scorched along the edges. She probably hadn't even noticed, herself. "There are burns on your clothes."

"Burns...?" Hinata blinked, then peered down to follow his gaze. So it was true—in her rush of anger, confusion, and sadness, she hadn't noticed that her lovely yellow top had been singed along the sides and fronts of her hips. Near her hands. She thought back to the battle: surrounded by whirling assailants on all sides, searching for a way out—her mind was demanding a perfect counter to what was coming. Instinct quickly kicked in, and before she knew it her hands had slapped together and formed the seals. Her training had laid a foundation, and she needed no time to think before building upon it. It happened so quickly as to be near-instant. Lightning surged through her body from head to toe, coalescing in each of her hands. With a twirl of her arms the sparking energy was propelled in several directions, individual threads of electricity slipping free of her fingertips and lashing her surroundings like supercharged whips. She felt the weight of the energy, heard the crackling in her ears...then the horrible thrashing of the wind had stopped, and her feet were once again on the ground. She hadn't really been able to think about what she had done before Kiba took offense to her use of lightning—did he even see the power of her technique, or was it the element itself that disturbed him? She flexed her hands and cleared her throat. "I-I must have scorched myself during practice..."

Sasuke nodded, sensing that she was holding back something important. He let it sit; no reason to push her. She had her reasons to keep the details scarce, and he respected that. "I recognize the burn pattern. My own clothes caught a lot of the same scorching while Kakashi was teaching me how to use Chidori." He smiled at the recollection. "Lightning...it's very difficult to tame, but the power is worth the effort." His fingers played at the side of Hinata's hip while he held her, tracing the ruined edges of her frilly garment with a gentle thumb. Was it nostalgia that made him smile, or was it the woman who was there in the present? A mix of both; perhaps she forced him to remember the better times simply by keeping his thoughts positive. That was good for him.

Hinata nodded toward his observation. She took her hand off his chest and looked at her palm. It was bright red, as if still sore from the heat and force of her chakra output. "Yes, very difficult..." She had done it so easily, though. So naturally. _Not naturally enough,_ she lamented as she silently noted her damaged shirt. "I need more practice, that's all." She raised the numbness of her palm to touch the side of Sasuke's cheek, rubbing his smooth skin gently and smiling up to him. "Did you really hear me crying, Sasuke? Is that why you're out here?" As romantic as the notion was, she couldn't quite believe it. Surely he was already nearby on his own business, perhaps hunting within the woods to replenish his dwindled supply of jerky. Was it really her, and only her, that brought him so far from the walls of Konoha?

Sasuke smiled with a light huff of laughter. He knew how surreal the explanation must have sounded, and he didn't resent her skepticism one bit. "It's true, Hinata..." And it _was_ true, though he left out the fact that he had utilized his moderately keen sensory capabilities to track her down from afar. He wasn't near Naruto's or even Karin's level of sensing, but he could find a person when he really needed to. Especially since he had spent so much time with her, and had gotten to know her chakra fairly intimately during their training within his genjutsu. Earlier that day, after his senses had brought him close to the presence of her chakra, he really _did_ start to hear her sobbing. The sound struck him to his core and forced him to reach her as quickly as possible. When he saw the sadness on her face make the transformation into joy as she felt both of his arms upon her body for the first time, Sasuke promised to remember that moment for the rest of his life. She was aglow with admiration and gratitude. Was he really so cherished? She proved that he was, time and time again, but it was still difficult for him to believe. A traitor, a murderer, a member of an accursed clan...yet she focused on his eyes as if they were shining stars, not raging infernos. She did not flee from his darkness, and she welcomed his light. She knew that he had flaws, but she didn't resent them. "You don't have to tell me why you were crying," Sasuke whispered, touching his lips to her forehead. "And you shouldn't stop unless you're ready to stop."

Hinata smiled, and the thought of his acceptance made her eyes well up all over again. Not because she was sad, but because she had been given 'permission' to let her sorrow show through. Her weaknesses. Her father was rarely so sensitive; even Naruto was usually so upbeat as to discourage sadness simply by wearing his goofy grin and ever-optimistic attitude. With Sasuke, though, things were different. She felt his personal aura of sadness like a shadow; always there, blocking out the brightest rays of the sun. There were openings, though—holes in the dark. Rather than frightening blackness, his eclipse felt more like the protective shade of the dense forest below her feet. Mysterious and potentially hazardous, but ultimately natural and hospitable to those who were invited. She asked herself why she was still withholding things from him, and chose not to do so. "I had a fight," she eventually confessed through her quiet lips. "It got bad..."

Sasuke's eyes narrowed again, looking to Hinata's face and checking for bruises or scrapes. She seemed fine, other than the superficial damage to her clothes. "Was it one of them?"

Hinata shook her head quickly, looking to defuse his already-rising vengeance. "N-no, nothing like that...it was my teammate, Kiba." She bit her lower lip, wondering if it was wise to tell Sasuke all the details about it. She had grown to trust his restraint and judgement, but there was the off chance that she had been mistaken in doing so. "He wanted to spar, and I agreed, but...when we started..." She trailed off, having trouble finding the words to summarize what happened.

Sasuke gave a slow, understanding nod. He made a guess. "When you started, he realized that you were far stronger than he was...and he got angry about it."

The Hyuuga girl blushed gratefully toward Sasuke's faith in her abilities. She didn't need to explain herself—he knew how strong she had become, no matter how much she had been doubting her own potential. "Y-yes...how did you guess?"

"Well, I know more about Kiba than you might think I do. He's a blowhard like Naruto, but without the natural talent to back it up. He picks fights with people who are stronger than him, but then he's furious when he loses. He blames his shortcomings on others, so his mistakes are never his own." Sasuke explained his views without blinking. A bit harsh, but generally focused on the truth. His eyes softened. "And I know you, too. Somebody like Kiba Inuzuka can't challenge you anymore."

Hinata felt a certain defensiveness in her chest, and it conflicted with her pride. She was compelled to speak on Kiba's behalf, as she felt dirty while discussing him so unfavorably behind his back. "That all sounds like him...but he's not as bad as you think. He does have a big ego, and he has issues taking responsibility for his failures...but his heart is always in the right place, and I'm sure that he's only angry because he thinks that he needs to protect me from..." She paused, sighing as she found herself repeating the exhausting sentiment yet again. "From you."

Sasuke saw an opportunity to seek some understanding, there. An anchor to revisit later—a way to perhaps win Kiba's approval, or at very least convince him of the truth. "He's one of the people who's worried that I'm going to hurt you?"

"Actually...he's certain that you've already hurt me." Hinata sheepishly looked aside. "He still thinks so, even though I..." She hesitated, but it was too late to backpedal. "I told him what really happened the other night. I know you told me not to talk about it, but I didn't know what else to do; he saw my wounds and assumed you were the one to cause them. I guess it doesn't matter, though. He thinks I'm lying about what happened just so I can protect you."

"You told him about the attack?" Sasuke's eyes widened a little; he was genuinely shocked. As he thought it over, though, he realized that he wasn't _that_ shocked. Sakura told Naruto, Hinata told Kiba (and probably her sister, too, at least), and he suspected that Sai would tell Ino sooner or later as well. For a village full of shinobi who were trained in the art of subtlety and espionage, it was surprisingly difficult to ensure that secrets remained as such between friends. Perhaps that was part of the enemy's plan. "What's more...you told him the actual truth, and he didn't believe you?"

Hinata shook her head sadly, then laid her ear against Sasuke's chest. Her eyes closed slowly and she allowed the warmth of his core to help her relax all over again. Her left hand reached up to her own shoulder where she was being held up, caressing the bandages of Sasuke's new arm with a few slender fingers. She was definitely enjoying the warmth that replaced what would have otherwise been cold, unfeeling machinery. "Like I said, his heart's in the right place, but he's always been stubborn. Maybe as stubborn as Naruto. Once he gets an idea in his head, I can't do anything to change his mind. I told him the truth so that maybe he'd stop accusing you, but...I guess it didn't work after all."

Sasuke looked over his shoulder. Somewhere in the forest at his back, there was surely an angered Kiba ranting about something or another. He couldn't hear it, but he could imagine it. The thought made him sigh inside, but the warmth of his precious Hinata in his arms kept him from vocalizing the sound. He kept a smile because she made him happy. His cheeks were aching every day—probably because he had been smiling too often and wasn't used to it. "You did what you could," he murmured, shaking his head, "but you don't need to risk your reputation for my sake. If he thinks you're lying to protect me, it won't do any good to repeat yourself."

Sadness touched the woman's features again, her forehead sagging and lips curving down. "So what should I do? He's convinced himself that you're a terrible person, but I know that you aren't."

"Let him be. I've dealt with worse." Sasuke squeezed Hinata's shoulder, then looked down past her frame to the forest floor below. The gentle trickle of a narrow stream was running below, not far from the base of his chosen tree. The cool water invited him to come closer, as the hot sun was making his bandages itch against his freshly-attached skin. "I'd like to get out of the sun for a while. Do you mind?"

Grinning appreciatively, Hinata leaned up in his arms, both of her hands finding his face and taking both cheeks gently between her palms. She could feel the lingering heat there, not all of it his own. "It's a muggy day...I wouldn't mind a break from the heat." She smiled and planted a soft kiss onto Sasuke's lips, tender and reluctant. She departed from his mouth while still wanting more, but she did so because she was consciously trying to hold herself back. With hopeless futility, she aimed to ration her kisses, to maintain a subtle affection rather than acknowledge the burning need that thrummed in the back of her mind. She was constantly thinking about their first kiss, then the day that followed. It was only yesterday that she was in his lap, straddling his hips and sucking his lips with something like desperation. She blushed at the memory once again; she wondered if she would ever come to terms with that feeling of wild abandon, if she'd ever forgive herself for succumbing so quickly to the urge to throw herself upon him. That moment had made her feel deeply unladylike, made worse by the way Hanabi teased her about her inexperience. And so she defaulted to easy kisses, ones that were simple pecks upon the lips, and Sasuke didn't seem to mind. He didn't press her for more depth, but he audibly and physically cherished each brush of lip on lip. Hinata gleefully kicked her legs quietly back and forth with her knees bent over his supportive arm.

Sasuke did chase her brief kiss with one of his own, catching her on the way backward. It was his answer; his counterattack. In a fair fight, two parties should trade equal blows, giving and taking hits with identical measure. So when she kissed him, he felt the urge to do the same in return, though he kept it separate. An entirely new kiss, one that was exactly as short and nearly as sweet as hers. The taste of her lips kept him hooked on the exchange, but just like Hinata, he was hesitant to press so far again. Was it still too soon, still too risky to give in to the fall? What was she to him, and he to her? What _could_ they be, realistically? Master and student, yes...but what else? Sasuke and Hinata looked at one another, as if simultaneously asking the same question. No answer was needed. Sasuke stepped down from the top branch, and his hair rose up while his body fell, with Hinata's doing the same. They were each capped by fluffed clouds of dark strands, and as they dropped perilously down, they continued to behold one another without flinching.

They fell freely, with neither a branch nor a leaf finding a way of scraping or scratching either of their forms. Sasuke slipped through the thick canopy like a narrow thread that pierced the eye of a needle on the first try, and when his feet later touched the ground, the landing was soft and silent despite the twigs and loose leaves that coated the forest floor. The sun was blocked by the thickness of chlorophyl overhead, and there was no beaten path near where they settled—save for the winding 'road' that the unseen, crisply flowing stream had carved for its own use. The forest was raw and peaceful, and the region seemed deserted. There were no chirping birds or groaning deer, no rustling trespassers within the surrounding bushes. They were alone, but for one another's company.

Sasuke gently began to lower Hinata so that she could stand on her own feet, and she caught the dirt with her rubbery boots and smiled up at her transport, keeping a hold on both of his hands. She clutched Sasuke's fingers with hers, feeling the bandages on one limb but meeting the resistance of firm flesh and bone beneath. She laughed with wonder as she felt it, rubbing her thumb against the back of his new hand. He really was complete, and he did it for her sake as well as his. "It's so quiet here," she acknowledged, eventually pulling her eyes away from the perfection of Sasuke's face to look upon the serenity of the brown and green spires around her. The layout was dense, but something about it was..."Just like home," she observed, then quickly shook her head and corrected herself. "Like your district, I mean...our training ground." She was hotly blushed, and she hastily released his hands and turned away in hopes of hiding the redness from the man she was trying not to lose herself in. It was a slip of the tongue, sure, but she had spent so much time in those ruins that they had begun to feel like home. It was as if the house that contained her bed was a place she only visited when she had to, and the destination she yearned for was the field of gray stone and lopsided pillars that served as the last remaining foothold of the Uchiha family.

"Yeah," Sasuke agreed, allowing Hinata to escape him in her embarrassment. He heard what she said, and he knew the practical reasoning behind _why_ she said it...but maybe he didn't know the precise implications. "Calm and tranquil," he mused, stepping around Hinata to approach the heard-but-unseen stream. The trees were less than a yard apart from one another and the ground underfoot was covered in foliage, with roots that were both soft and scratchy rising up from the dirt. The unkempt, crusty terrain rose and fell in natural waves, with a variance of seven or eight feet from top to bottom along with the occasional gaps and crevices that dropped into muddied depressions. The wilderness was wild indeed, nearly unnavigable but for the fact that the visitors were experienced ninjas. Such a trek was simplicity itself for the pair, and when Sasuke lightly hopped across a small gap and then descended a slope to find the edge of running water, Hinata followed with lackadaisical ease. The scrape of loose dirt and the tumbling of tiny stones followed behind them as they slid.

Hinata gracefully coasted ahead of Sasuke to reach the border of the stream before him—the water was relatively shallow, perhaps ten to twenty inches deep depending on the spot, and only a few feet across. It flowed slowly in the center with a bit of a rush near the sides, occasionally lifting a stray twig or errant leaf from the bank to carry it off to parts unknown. Regardless of the passengers on the surface, the water was crystal clear. The bottom was visible in the form of slick mud with smooth stones dotting the scape. The banks were higher and wider than the present water level, suggesting that the heat had sapped some of its volume via evaporation along the way. Hinata fell to her knees along the muddy bank without a care—her clothes were already dirty from training, and she had singed them even worse than that, so the mud on her legs didn't matter. She scooped her hands into the lazy flow and as she brought the liquid to her mouth, she sucked it up from the reservoir of her palms with greedy gulps and finally realized how thirsty she had been.

Sasuke joined her, dipping his right hand into the water in a similar fashion and scooping up his own serving of fluid to drink down. He did not chug it so greedily as Hinata did, but he had been told by his doctor to keep himself hydrated to encourage the development of his new arm, so he did as instructed. The dormant limb itched, and it throbbed, and it was still a little numb from lingering cold deep inside, but he was getting used to its presence quickly. Still, he opted not to use it for drinking—the bandages would likely add an unpleasant flavor, and even if they didn't, he saw no reason to take the modest risk. The water itself was stupendously cool and refreshing, and the pair of shinobi took several more scoops worth before becoming satisfied and settling down to take a seat along the bank. Hinata laid on her back and raised her arms above her head, stretching out and groaning quietly. Though she hadn't been suitably challenged during training, her muscles still appreciated the stretch.

Sasuke fell back onto his rear a few steps from Hinata and crossed his legs, laying his left arm on his knee and humming pleasantly. "This is more like what I'm used to," he said as if longing for the past. "Emptiness in every direction; nobody to accuse me, nobody to resent me."

Hinata turned from her place on her back and rested herself in the mud on her side. She left a Hinata-shaped imprint in the mud behind her, and she was making more tracks along the formerly-smooth ledge each time she moved. "You spent a lot of time in the wilderness while you were away?"

Sasuke nodded. "Most of my time. There are untouched parts of the world that are vast—if you were to travel one step at a time until you had laid a footprint on every square foot of empty soil, then every one of the nations would be as big as a lifetime. I could have spent the rest of my years exploring hidden paths that have been carved by nature, let alone humanity, and I might have been happy with that." He looked over to Hinata, her innocently-curved body having turned his way in an unintentionally-inviting way, one arm draped casually over a hip with fingers idly playing at the hem of her shirt. He felt a lump in his throat but he didn't let it affect his speech. "I think that I could have been happy by myself," he continued, but his heart was no longer confident in what he was saying. From time to time, a person might get the chance to be stricken by a vision of utter perfection, the flawless arrangement of form, scenery, lighting, and atmosphere that is so rare and so influential that it can change a person's life forever. Sasuke was seeing one of those visions and having one of those moments again—in fact, with Hinata nearby he had those moments alarmingly often.

Her clothes were a bit tight in certain places to begin with, a problem that was made a little more obvious by the way she rolled in the mud and let the material get caught up behind and beneath her. The cloth was pulled taut against her shape by the resistance of the ground while she rotated in the cool, wet dirt. Particularly, her shirt was squeezing her chest and her pants were squeezing her hips and thighs prominently. She didn't think much of the strain on her threads, other than for the mild discomfort it created against her skin—her life had generally been one sustained by nearly-naïve innocence. Men who looked at her rather well-developed features in the past were swiftly 'dealt with' by either Neji or Ko, but neither of her guardians were there to run Sasuke off, and so she experienced the entire length of his awestruck stare. Willingly. Though she was made nervous by his intensity, she found herself compelled to bask in his focus. Her breath gained weight and her lips tensed timidly. A shiver ran down her spine and her body went still. She knew that Sasuke was captivated by her, by the way she looked at that exact moment. She could see that his eyes were dark, but they were focused, and he was as motionless as she was. Freckles of sunlight struck her in just the right places to give her an exotic appeal within the dimness of the shade.

Finally, she felt overwhelmed by the silent gaze. Though she loved the way his steamy attention made her feel, she could not endure it any longer. She was becoming too tempted by her own thoughts. Trying to gradually relieve the tension of the moment, Hinata spoke with shaky curiosity, her throat trembling just like her spine and fingertips. "D-do you still think you'd be happy if you were alone?" she asked quietly. She was shifting somewhat awkwardly as the question hung in the air, as if she was trying to offset the accidental perfection of her pose.

The slight turns and tilts of her shoulder, hip, and arm were not enough to break Sasuke's enthralled stare. He blinked several times, doing his best to break the lock from his own side. Failing that, he answered with a sensual hum, letting the heat of his pumping blood warm the sound of his throat. "No...I can't be happy by myself...Not anymore." He didn't move. He couldn't. Hinata's beauty echoed in his ears, the undeniable allure of her body and her mind coming together to make Sasuke sweat. "That's been impossible since the moment I saw you in the moonlight."

Hinata shuddered a gasp, bringing her arm to her chest and squeezing near her heart. She was flattered, but she was speechless. She licked her lips to wet them, because despite her greedy drinking her breaths had made them dry again. The mud on her clothes was heavy while she tried to sit up, and it covered most of her left side and all of her back. Her pale arms were slick with a thin film of the syrupy earth. She felt dirty in more ways than one, but at least one of those ways could be dealt with. She was self-consciously on her knees again, and she crawled to the side of the stream carefully. She couldn't tell Sasuke how happy she was to hear his words; she couldn't bear the shame of admitting that she was instantly addicted to the way he looked at her with such unspoken hunger in his eyes. She couldn't reply at all, and while her half-open mouth was panting shallowly with confusion, she slowly reached a hand into the clear water of the stream to splash it along her arm. It was the only way she could distract herself; the only way to keep herself sane. She started haphazardly bathing her limbs with the cold water, one ounce at a time. The mud that coated her was still wet, and it washed away with ease to give way to clear skin.

Sensing a chance to dilute the tension at last, Sasuke got a gleam in his eye. "Maybe I can help with that," he hummed fluidly. He inched closer to her and dipped his new hand into the water along the way, parting the surface slightly as it flowed to either side of his digits.

His gradual approach made Hinata more nervous than ever, and her blush became solid as he got nearer to her, creeping through the mud on his knees inch by inch. _Help me wash off? Is he suggesting...?_ She whined inwardly, then shut her eyes tightly as if to escape the terrifyingly tempting prospect. _Tempting?_ She bit her lip as she caught herself thinking so, and her head shook frantically to follow her silent narration. _No no, none of that! I don't care how warm he is, how understanding he is, how..._ _ **perfect**_ _he is. I can't take this._ Just as she was turning to tell Sasuke that she didn't need his help, her face was splashed by a heaping lump of cold water. The forced hydration filled her open mouth and flushed up one of her nostrils before she raised a hand to defend herself. By then, it was too late—the damage had been done and Hinata's upper half was soaked. Her hair was weighed down and her face was dripping from forehead to chin. She gasped for breath and shivered beneath the icy splash that drenched her. Sasuke was kneeling a pace and a half away with a sly smirk on his suddenly-childish face. Initially, Hinata was angered by the sneak attack—but then she realized what it was. She grinned wide and wiped a hand down her face to clear the bulk of the saturation, then she brought her own hand down to the stream. With playful vigor, she growled: "Not fair! You're in for it now, Sasuke..." She thrashed her arm and sent a modest torrent of the clear stream water toward Sasuke's face in retaliation.

Oh, he could have avoided it for miles. To the demigod it was like there was a slow-moving lava flow gradually stretching its way toward him, or a stalagmite forming one drop of sediment at a time to never reach his face. Instead of edging out of the way, instead of raising his arm to block the worst of it, instead of playing for keeps, Sasuke simply held firm, smirking his insufferable smirk until the full force of Hinata's splash struck him right on the nose. The volume of the water she was able to move was actually impressive, and it seemed to rush over his face, neck, hair, and ears for several seconds before he could see and hear clearly again. When the shock of the cold came and went, Sasuke's smirk turned into a full grin. His hair seemed worse off than Hinata's, its midsection falling limp into unevenly-long strands across his forehead and eyes. He laughed; he laughed long and hard, then pulled the hair to one side with a pair of fingers. "What was that for?" He asked playfully, reaching for another splash. The fight was on.

As Hinata turned her back, she was soaked from behind by the second wave. She couldn't contain her blissful giggle. Drops of water rose high and fell low, reflecting the thin beams of sunlight overhead into a hundred sparkles in each direction. The beads barely had time to land on one side of the battle before the opposite side sent them back twice as quickly. The war raged on, and both Sasuke and Hinata were grinning wide. _I didn't even know you_ _ **liked**_ _having fun, Sasuke._ The words had been Hinata's, weeks before.

 _I was a kid, once._ Sasuke's previous admission rang through Hinata's mind as they laughed and splashed together, ducking and kicking to do everything within their child-like power to soak the other. _I had a lot of fun as a child,_ he echoed as another healthy dose of water drenched and cleansed the mud from the side of Hinata's shirt. She squirmed in an attempt to avoid it, but the purifying rush couldn't be denied. Some of the dirtiness still remained, but the bulk of it was easy to wash away since the liquid was so clear. _I'm starting to remember what it was like to feel happy._ Sasuke had an honest grin, a clear and weightless laugh. He was proving to Hinata—without really meaning to prove it—that he was becoming someone else. No, not someone else—he was becoming _himself_ again.

Hinata and Sasuke, two honorable combatants in an impromptu splash war, had waded into the stream to where it was knee-deep, gradually growing closer and closer until they shared a final exchange. Two massive waves collided and canceled each other out, and when the foam of collision finally dispersed, the two locked eyes and took deep breaths. For a moment, they stood in silence Without a word, they mutually sloughed through the muddy ground and threw their arms around one another, embracing fully from the waist up. Their grins remained, their soaked bodies pressed together as waterlogged articles of clothing squished and squeezed, wrung out by the pressure of the naturally tight embrace. Hinata looked up at Sasuke, who looked down at her with a slow pant, mouth still spread wide with an appreciative grin. It had been so long since he had simply played, since he had allowed himself to forget his worries and just entertain himself for the sake of it. A hand of Sasuke's rose up and sloshed through Hinata's soaking tresses. After wringing out a long lock, he gave her hair a gentle tug to tilt her head back, then moved his mouth to hers. With a tight kiss to her lips, he surrendered.

Hinata submitted herself to that kiss, leaning herself back at the waist to find an arm looped just above her backside, a turning point for her spine to curve against. She pressed her stomach up and out, molding to Sasuke's firm abdomen. Her own arms came up to throw around his neck and pull his face to hers. Their noses clashed like usual, still not fully rehearsed in their kissing technique. It was fine; everything was fine. More than fine. It was actually ideal. They owned that stream, they possessed the forest that surrounded them; in that moment, they were blissful. Euphoric. Nothing could go wrong, anymore. Sasuke's hand followed the enticing curve of Hinata's hip and thigh, running warmth down her left leg to seep through the chilly film of water that trickled over her. The drenched woman let off a natural moan into the tight lock of Sasuke's lips, and her mouth opened to really suckle on his smooth skin. She tongued against his mouth for a moment, and she was met with a light prod of his own slick muscle in exchange. She pulled him nearer, pressed her chest and stomach tighter, and ensured that her eyes were fully closed.

"Nngh," Hinata groaned into the kiss, and then she pulled her head back gently. She was panting hard, but she didn't want to discourage her playmate. She pursed her lips and took a stiff breath through her nose. Her whole body was covered in water and she could feel it trickling down all her curves beneath her clothes. "I feel much better now," she said sheepishly, and Sasuke puffed out an amused stream of air that was accompanied by a bright-toothed grin.

"So do I," he replied, then leaned down for another kiss, not quite as deep as the first. That moment was crucial. _Don't get carried away,_ he reminded himself. If he were to have tried, he would have been able to peer through the thin, soaking yellow fabric of Hinata's shirt. Out of respect for her, and for his own sanity's sake, he avoided looking at anything below her neckline, keeping his own chest tightly locked to her cushioned bosom and his eyes nicely sealed against the pale irises of his...of his what? Was she his student, friend, or more? Such a trivial question to ask. Their togetherness spoke for itself, and yet a label was inevitable. Whether it came from him, from her, or from somebody else in another place, their connection would be called something that didn't adequately reflect the beautiful truth. _Let somebody else decide,_ Sasuke thought as he felt Hinata's arms slowly tightening around his neck in a classically wanting position. A minute passed, and the kissing finally ended, though perhaps not for long. A short break, but not an ending.

As Sasuke retreated with tasteful reluctance, Hinata stood up straight to match him and lowered her arms from his neck and shoulders to his waist, wrapping around his mid-back with a tight squeeze. Her head nuzzled his chest and she felt his hand come behind her hair to hold her there. It felt good to be wanted—to be cradled and kissed, to be desired. To have a strong hand behind her head to hold her close and tell her ' _I don't want you to go; I want you to stay right here._ ' She murmured into his chest with bashful lips, and she melted into him. "Sasuke, I..."

Suddenly, the blissful couple simultaneously broke out of the moment and turned their heads in unison toward the nearby bushes. Somebody was coming...somebody had seen. Sasuke's right hand immediately reached for his hip in search of the hilt of his sword. It wasn't there. He had left it behind that morning. That would have been unfortunate, were it not for the speedy and disarming response of the encroaching presence. Before the embracing pair could even separate from one another's arms, a voice called out to them.

"Don't kill me, don't kill me, don't kill me!" It was a young girl's voice, a small but experienced exclamation repeated thrice for the sake of certainty. "I know I'm not..." _pant,_ "supposed to..." _pant,_ "sneak up!" Hanabi came with a burst through the nearby bushes and looked completely winded when she emerged into view. "This is an emergency, though!" She looked genuinely disturbed; her face was red from exertion and her knees were shaky. She must have been sprinting all the way from the village.

Hinata immediately responded. "Hanabi, slow down!" Shebroke free of Sasuke's embrace with ease and stumbled through the muddy stream to approach her sister. "What's the matter?"

Hanabi had her hands on her knees, trying to catch her breath before answering. She had a dire expression. "Sis, we need to go home right away..." She peered at Sasuke, then thought for a minute before adding an exhausted condition: "But I don't think he should come with us."

Sasuke nearly protested, but Hinata could see that the matter was genuinely serious and spoke before him. "Tell me what's going on, Hanabi. I need to know what this is about before I say anything else." Though it was almost definitely Hanabi as far as Hinata could tell, she didn't want to foolishly waltz into another trap like before. Skepticism was her ally, especially in such a bizarre situation. Clearly, Hanabi found her with her genuine, still-active Byakugan—but what sort of emergency could have been so urgently terrible, yet also delicate enough that it required her to keep Sasuke away?

"Father..." Hanabi began, beating her chest with an open palm to clear her air flow. "He's furious. He sent _everybody_ out to find you, so I had to be sure that I was the one to reach you first...I mean, who knows what Sasuke would do to somebody else sneaking up?" She gave a wincing, apologetic look toward the quiet Uchiha. The man was soaked, and Hinata was soaked, but Hanabi wasn't even making a snide comment about it. That's what sealed it—the emergency was real.

"Furious? About what?" Hinata gave Sasuke a concerned glance, a look which was met with dark eyes full of stoic intrigue. The twinkling, carefree enjoyment had already faded from Sasuke's face; he had become stone again.

"A message from the Hokage arrived at the house today. Do you know what was written on it?" Hanabi was finally catching her breath, and she had adopted a mildly aggressive tone. She looked like she felt betrayed. She was met with silence from both Hinata and Sasuke, so she sighed and revealed the 'surprise'. "It was a comprehensive list of all the registered tournament participants...including which tier they were entered into." Her expression was locked tight and she was scowling a little.

That's when Hinata's eyes grew wider and her throat swelled with a gulp. She looked at Sasuke, and he gave her a reassuring glance of silent eyes; he had nothing vocal to say, but just the tilt of his head was comforting to her. The older sister regarded Hanabi and hugged her own dripping wet torso with both arms. "So he saw...and you saw...?" Hinata's voice was meek and quiet. She was caught. She knew it was coming, but she had hoped somehow that the announcement would be ignored by her father just like everything else was.

"Yeah, we both saw where your name was...and since you aren't denying it, I guess it isn't some kind of mistake." Hanabi closed her eyes and puffed a sigh, mimicking her sister's arm placement over her chest. Though where Hinata's stance seemed defensive, Hanabi's posture was determined and steadfast. "I get it, I do—you're too strong to be in the lowest tier and everybody knows it...but Father doesn't see it that way."

"H-how mad is he, Hanabi?" Hinata trembled at the base of her spine, a tingle that made her feel heavy.

"Well, let's put it this way—he didn't shout, but it's been a long time since I've seen his face turn that red...and that little vein popped up on his forehead, too. So unless you want things to get even worse, you need to come back with me right we can smooth this over together." Hanabi extended her hand, inviting Hinata to take it. The short teenager peered at Sasuke, who seemed to be taking the whole thing in stride. "I really am sorry about interrupting...I wouldn't have bothered you guys if it wasn't something serious."

Sasuke nodded slowly, though his face was flat and cryptic. "I know you wouldn't have." Was it a threat, or an acknowledgment? Hanabi thought that she was better off not knowing the answer.

Hinata timidly took her sister's hand and frowned slightly to Sasuke. She wanted him to come along but knew that his presence would only make things worse. Her father was angry, that much was obvious—but how bad was it, really? How open was he to reason? Those were the important questions to ask and answer along the way. Only Hanabi could provide the backup that was necessary to deal with the family-rooted issue, though it was Sasuke's lingering strength that kept Hinata's backbone straight. "Alright. I know I can't run away from this, so thank you for being the one to tell me, Hanabi."

The young girl wagged a finger. "Don't get ahead of yourself, sis...I'm actually pretty annoyed that you didn't tell me about this." Hanabi smirked, a sharp tooth showing behind her lip. "I think I can forgive you once I've beaten you, though." She winked, then focused her Byakugan with a serious expression. "The others are still looking around inside the village. We should go before somebody gets the bright idea to come out here and cause a problem."

Hinata nodded, but first she looked one more time toward Sasuke. "Thanks for cheering me up today," she said to him. "I promise I'll see you again soon!" She showed a smile that could melt a glacier, but Sasuke could see the worry in the back of her eyes. He had seen that latent concern before, and he would see it again on another day. One thing that Sasuke knew not to worry about, however, was the girl herself—she would be fine, one way or another. He trusted her to make the right choice. And so it was okay that he was being left behind—he would have liked to help, but he knew that there was nothing he could accomplish for her in light of her father's disapproval. The master's role was reduced to serving as a passive voice in Hinata's memories, but that was enough. As Hinata started to leave, the worry in her eyes turned into a flash of recognition: "Oh, and good luck with your photo shoot! I know you'll do great!"

Sasuke had almost forgotten; in fact, he was surprised that _she_ remembered, given the situation. He smirked with no enthusiasm. Her well-wish was received gratefully, but the thought was a bit silly—who needed luck for a photo shoot? "Thanks, Hinata." That was it. With such simple words she was gone again, vanished beyond the trees with Hanabi towing her along. He was tempted to follow her through the thickness, but thought better of it. The rest of her family was searching for her. He was forced to remember once again that most people saw him as a menace, a corrupting influence on the village and its people. She was better off without having him nearby—at least with regards to her image, something that was precariously teetering on a pinpoint. He heard the rustle of branches and the crackling of windblown leaves above—Hinata and Hanabi were headed home quickly, leaving Sasuke behind to contemplate the moment.

Loneliness was an old sensation, one that he had gotten easily accustomed to. It wasn't the loneliness that nagged him most, but the sense of obligation. _Why did I agree to a photo shoot? Do I really want my face on a poster?_ He could already imagine the graffiti and the disdain, but it was too late for regrets. Until the moment he imagined himself in front of a camera, he had forgotten that his body was soaked with stream water. He looked down at his sopping clothes while his hand came up to run his bare fingers through the sopping mop of his hair. He groaned quietly and stepped out of the water, pulling his signaling mirror out of his pocket to quickly look at himself. Pitiful. If he was going to be photographed, he was going to be photographed properly. He raised his left arm and tried to force chakra through the pathways within, but the shrunken channels were still sluggish and muddy. On top of that, the muscles felt a bit weak and sore. All he had done was carry Hinata and splash some water, but the limb had already been fatigued? He sighed at the thought. _Getting used to this thing might take longer than I thought it would._

Resigning his mind to the near-uselessness of his fresh arm, he raised the, old and reliable right one and passed chakra to his fingertips. Fire-like heat began to jet from each digit with a rush of air to simulate a blowdryer, which Sasuke then used to begin prepping his hair. Though he didn't frankly care about how the photos turned out, he preferred not to catch hell from Kakashi over not taking it seriously enough. Time had passed with surprising quickness while he and Hinata were together, and the sun was showing the early signs of setting. Ten o'clock was the scheduled time of his appointment, and ten o'clock was coming sooner than he wanted.

Though Sasuke tried to distract himself with his personal grooming, his eyes constantly wrinkled with the hope that Hinata would be alright. He knew surprisingly little about Hiashi Hyuuga, but everything he _did_ know pointed to one cautionary conclusion that Hinata had defied: _Do not make him angry._

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 **Thanks for your patience on this update! Hopefully I'll have a bit more time (and thus faster updates) during the upcoming holidays, but don't hold me to it because there's a lot of things other than school going on as well. That said, thanks for your amazing support and all of the helpful/insightful reviews you've given me so far. As of right now, there are 798 reviews for this story, so this chapter will undoubtedly push that number past 800. In my wildest dreams I couldn't have imagined such incredible support! I write for my own enjoyment, but also for yours, so please don't hesitate to tell me what you think about the story—positive, negative, neutral, whatever! I'm very PM friendly, so if you have any specific insights or questions that you don't want to put in a review, feel free to send a private message. I'll reply as quickly as possible. The same goes for questions asked within a review. I try to answer all non-spoiler questions as I see them, so if you don't get an answer to a specific question you can probably assume that the answer will (eventually) be given by the story itself. Unfortunately this does not apply to Guest reviews because there is no reply/PM system in place for them.**

 **With all of that said, thanks again for reading this chapter, and for continuing to come back every time I post one. I see a lot of the same names showing up in the review section for every chapter, which is awesome. Knowing that there's a consistent group of people reading each and every new chapter encourages me like you wouldn't believe. Again, thank you.**

 **(Added fun fact: the previous chapter [#37], is tied with chapter #27 [Sasuke vs. Shell + the first kiss] for the highest number of reviews in the history of the story, standing at 38 each. I'm glad that both of them have been so well-received!)**


	39. Hinata and Hiashi

**Enjoy!**

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The sun had set before she arrived with her sister, and now Hinata beheld the paper-and-wood door in front of her as if it were larger than the Juubi. Her throat was heavy with worry and her feet refused to take a step forward. Her arms were clutched to her chest and her eyes were nervously flitting to her left and right. The hallways were empty except for Hanabi, who had escorted her to their home as quickly and discretely as possible. Hiashi's personal training room was the destination in mind, but now that it was there in front of the sisters, the elder of the two refused to budge. She had previously been confident, _certain_ ; she knew that defiance was the correct choice when the paper was laid in front of her. After all, how could a choice be wrong if Sasuke Uchiha himself had advised her to do it? Sure, she thought that her father would be angry, but that was a problem for the future Hinata to deal with—the only problem, then, was that future Hinata had suddenly become present Hinata. And the present version of Hinata didn't know if she was ready.

"What's the worst that can happen?" Hanabi asked, prodding her sister's waist with an annoying finger. "He's mad, but he's been mad before, right?"

Hinata flinched, and her hand instinctively swatted her sibling's stiff finger away from her. She wasn't in the mood to be touched anymore. "This is different...It's not just anger. I can feel something _else_ through that door. Can't you?"

Hanabi raised a brow and looked to the door in question. She didn't seem to understand the gravity of the situation the way the taller, older one did. Either that, or she was playing dumb in a futile attempt to ease her sister's worries. "Not really. What are you getting at?"

The house was dead silent for a moment while Hinata thought to herself. No footsteps, no murmurs, and no sliding doors. It was as if the entire manor had gone still in anticipation of the wrath behind that thick paper door. Hiashi must have known that his daughters had arrived, but he awaited their entrance rather than rising to meet them. He was patient in his fury; the deadliest currents rested beneath placid water. Hinata was growing frustrated with her sister, because if everyone else could feel the chill, how was it that Hanabi was the only one who acted so oblivious?

Hinata swallowed down one lump of fear, but she was immediately drowned by more of it; she was trapped beneath an ocean of hesitation and doubt. No matter how much of the negative emotions she tried to set aside, there would always be a limitless volume waiting to replace them. Her sister had asked a question, and Hinata spoke plain to answer it: "What I'm getting at is that this is the first time I've deliberately disobeyed him...not just let him down, or misunderstood a direction, but openly defied him." She clutched her dirty yellow shirt against her waist. She should have changed to something more presentable before facing him, but it had become too late; she knew that if she took a single step away from that door, she would run away fast and far until she collapsed. It was now or never, and she couldn't live with 'never'.

Hanabi belatedly acknowledged the stakes and bit her lower lip. She could see the genuine concern on the pale face beside her, and she canted her head to toss her own hair over one shoulder, trying to pretend that the moment was no big deal. "You could tell him it was a mistake; some kind of clerical error on the Hokage's part. It's not too late to take it back, right?"

Hinata's head shook. "No, it's far too late to change this. And even if it wasn't too late, I wouldn't take it back. It's the right choice, I'm sure of it. I only wish that Father would agree with me." Reassured by her own confident words, Hinata took a step forward and reached out to settle her fingers to the wooden frame of the doorway. It had no lock, and it wasn't heavy. A gentle nudge would have pulled it open, but she did not grip or hold it—she merely touched it. The surface was smooth, sanded down and polished to a dark mahogany shine. It felt good on her fingers, but the feeling triggered a shadowy shiver in her bones. It was her father's dojo; she rarely entered it, but when she did, she always felt stifled. Usually upon those visits she was quickly dismissed after having delivered a message or been asked a simple favor. This was the first time in years that she could recall having been summoned there specifically for a reprimand.

Hanabi was tapping her foot impatiently. "Well he can't agree _or_ disagree with you if you don't actually make your case...so go on, sis; I'll come in with you just to be sure." Hanabi put her small hand on the back of Hinata's, guiding the hesitant woman's fingers to clasp more firmly around the edge of the door. "Don't be scared. He's your father; we're family. He loves you, Hinata." She spoke with a reassuring and shining smile, but inwardly she doubted the encouragement. Did Hiashi Hyuuga still have the capacity for love? Ever since the war, he had been different. Colder, more distant; what was it that changed him? No matter how often she tried to prod the man for answers, she received little more than a grunt and a chastising reminder to maintain proper form and chakra flow. Training; that was all she shared with him anymore, aside from blood and a roof.

"I hope you're right," Hinata murmured with no confidence. With Hanabi's help, her pale fingers squeezed the panel and heaved it open, soon gazing into the mouth of what could have been hell itself. Eyes that were white and clear seemed somehow demonic as they beheld the daughters. Hiashi was there, seated with his legs folded regally upon a cream-colored mat that covered three quarters of the room. Hard wood was peeking out along the edges to meet the walls with no decoration. The man who filled the room said nothing; he did nothing. He was waiting with his hands folded in his lap; there was no tension in his fingers or arms, and even his usually-telegraphing brow seemed relaxed. The angry vein that had been alluded to was nowhere in sight. Hinata felt a bit of relief. Her father seemed normal. "Y-you wanted to see me, Father?" She stuttered skittishly, even though she tried not to.

There was a moment of hesitation. "Come in," he later replied with a calm, inviting breath. "There's something I'd like to discuss with you."

Hinata nodded, then she took a step into the room. Hanabi fell in behind her, slinking around with her shoulders hunched like she was trying to stay out of sight. Hiashi seemed to ignore her, which was unusual—it was often the other way around, with the older sibling being invisible and the teenager receiving all the attention. The idea of such a reversal was unnerving, and that was exactly what compelled Hanabi to come in and keep an eye open. The heiress broke away quietly and made for a corner like a scurrying rat, trying to settle down into scarcity with no success. There was no place to hide in that room; the shadows were destroyed by flickering candles, and there were no tables, chairs, or changing curtains to keep secrets behind. Hinata closed the door without looking back and she took a deep breath before dropping to her knees at the edge of her father's mat. She said nothing—don't speak unless spoken to, right?

Hiashi sat in silence for over a minute, allowing the intensity of his attention to sear itself into Hinata's consciousness. When he spoke, he was quick to the point: "You have betrayed me in a most humiliating fashion, Hinata." The statement was clearly enunciated and did not echo in the padded room. "Do you happen to know what I am referring to?"

Hinata felt the vastness of his anger despite the calm, measured warmth of his speech. It was a nobleman's way; conceal the truth behind a pleasant voice and a stern visage. Never show anger, sadness, glee, or concern. Hinata, though, could feel the slightest hints of emotion beneath it all. Such was her way with people, courtesy of her lifelong over-sensitive sense of empathy. That's what drew her to Naruto, and even to Sasuke. She felt their sadness when nobody else could. "Yes, I know what you're talking about." She answered Hiashi because he asked a question, then fell quickly back into obedient silence. She felt powerless in front of him; the confidence she felt on the day she signed the altered entry form was suddenly absent. She had defied him then with pleasure, but now that her 'mistake' had been noticed, she wondered if it was the right thing to do after all.

"How do you intend to fix this mistake?" Hiashi's fingers showed their first sign of tension; his digits flexed against the white cloth of his robe and ruffled it along his folded knees.

Hinata found herself debating her answer on the spot. She knew the correct, tailored response that would make the anger go away: _I'll revoke my entry into the General Tier and request that the Hokage assign me to the Beginner Tier instead. In addition, I'll apologize to the entire clan and submit myself to your chosen punishment in order to atone for my disobedience._ Those were the words the stubborn clan head wanted to hear, but to Hinata's own surprise they were not the words that came out of her mouth. Instead, slowly and tempered: "There was no mistake, Father. There is nothing that needs to be fixed." Despite her fear, despite her hesitation, there was a stoic certainty in those words. It was Sasuke's confidence that came out of her, as if he had left it upon her lips the last time he kissed her.

Hanabi's jaw silently dropped open, and Hiashi's eyes reluctantly closed while he sustained a deep inhale through his nose. His jaw trembled and the clutch of his fingers on his knee became deeper still. His eyelids parted and his gaze was no longer placid; his irises were trembling rapidly from side to side, such was the turmoil in his chest. "Repeat that," Hiashi demanded. The facade was cracking. The rehearsed calmness was giving way to irritation.

No hesitation. "I didn't make a mistake." Hinata couldn't believe her own words, but she could not prevent them from escaping her lips. She had unwittingly made the decision a long time ago; the surprise came when her heart finally decided to inform her brain of her conviction. She still doubted herself, but even _she_ wouldn't have known it from the sound of her voice. "There's nothing to fix."

Hiashi's face, craggy by default, became pitted and ugly as he frowned and scowled. "You disobeyed my wishes, Hinata. _That_ was a mistake. When I called for you here, I was willing to accept an apology and a reversal of your foolishly impulsive decision." He rose to his feet with careful, intimidating slowness, then pulled the twin ties of his dark cloth belt to tighten it around his waist. "Yet here you've defied me a second time, and this time with pride. You've come to my personal chamber and spat in my _face_." He should have been proud of her resolve, yet he could feel nothing past the anger. "You have one last chance to beg for my forgiveness. I suggest you take it."

Hinata cowered inside of herself, but on the outside she was firm and upright. Her eyes did not blink, her shoulders did not slouch. Her father was intimidating; he scared her when he stood. She had told herself that 'he would never hurt his own daughter,' but she began to worry that she had been wrong. Still, despite her fear, it was too late to turn back. After all, what would Sasuke think of her if she backed down from a challenge like this? _He_ wouldn't take such disrespect sitting down, would he? So Hinata stood up to match her father and she took an unconscious step forward, clutching her fists tightly down beside her hips, struggling monumentally in order to stop herself from throwing a punch which she might regret for the rest of her life. She raised her voice to a commanding shout. "I don't want your forgiveness, Father! I want your _respect!_ "

Hiashi took note of her trembling fists and her quickness to stand in front of his imposing posture. She had never been that confident before. What spurred her on? "And is this really how you think you will earn my respect? By flagrantly disregarding my wishes and stepping on the dignity of the entire clan for the sake of your personal wishes?" He took a step closer. The mat was wide, but the gap between the man and his daughter was shrinking one foot at a time. "Who put you up to this? Was it that brash upstart Kiba Inuzuka? The busy-body Kurenai Yuhi? The over-eager Naruto Uzumaki? This is not like you, Hinata; you were once so very eager to follow my orders."

Hinata's saliva started to taste like poison in her mouth, and she knew that it was her own words that flavored it. "You've been treating me like a disposable sack of your 'noble blood' since I was just a little girl..." Hinata stepped forward, too, and she tightened her neck to swallow her saliva. Her next words needed to be clear: "You're going to see that I'm more than just your obedient daughter; you can't control me anymore. There are people outside of this clan who genuinely believe in me, and I refuse to disappoint them for your sake." Hiashi paused for a moment, and Hanabi was silent in the corner as she looked between the two. The tension was peaking. It wouldn't take much more for the tightrope to snap. "I'm stronger than you think."

There was a dismissive wave of a broad, masculine hand. Calloused fingers glided through the warm air of the room. "Do you think that's the issue, Hinata?" Hiashi lowered his shoulders by a half an inch. Enough to regress, to deescalate the single moment, but not enough to fully back down. He had his own dignity to uphold. It was a battle of wills, but he might have been losing. "Do you, my own daughter, believe that it's your _strength_ that I doubt?"

Hinata bit her lower lip. She was briefly wavering in her intensity. For a moment, she thought that she was being spoken to with an ounce of compassion. The sound of it in Hiashi's voice was surprisingly sweet and soothing; that was how it felt to have a loving father, but it did not last. It never did. "Why should I think otherwise?" Hinata asked with a needle's precision. "You've always cast me aside. You put Hanabi in my place and handed me off to Kurenai-sensei. You didn't care if I lived or died. You paid more attention to Neji than to me during my first Chunin Exam..." She bit her lip again; she hated to invoke her dear cousin's memory for such negativity, but the point stood. "And now you want me to play with children while Hanabi is allowed to test her strength against worthy opponents. If I don't draw the line for myself, Father, then where will it stop?"

Hiashi seemed unmoved, despite his momentary display of sympathy. "It will stop where I _choose_ for it to stop, whether you draw a line or not. You are not the head of this Clan, Hinata—you're not even the heiress. And it's your _own_ weakness that made it this way. I'm merely protecting our family name from embarrassment." His shoulders tightened up and he took another step. Father and daughter were nearing the center of the single mat.

Hinata's eyes were moist. She was tired of crying, tired of feeling betrayed and disrespected. Naruto, Kiba, and now her father had all made her feel that way in recent memory. Frankly, she was ready to move on. Ready to stop crying and start smiling again. Those three men were obstacles to that goal; the final hurdles in the way of her ascension to the top of her personal mountain. Sasuke was waiting for her at the crest; she believed that he had already overcome all of his own doubts and weaknesses. The conflicting truth did not matter—she saw him as the ideal model of confidence. He did not deny any of his own faults. Instead, he fought to overcome them or push them aside. Hinata knew that her own faults were plentiful, but she was ready to shorten the list. First up was her lack of confidence—her spats with Kiba and Naruto were trial runs compared to the difficulty of facing up to her father. She knew that she was doing well so far, but she was still on dangerous ground. The exchange had only just begun and she was already wavering. "I've always been an embarrassment to you, haven't I?" She felt herself quivering on her own two feet. "The 'other daughter'; the second best."

A stern head shook, dark hair swaying along with it. "No...you were never the second best, Hinata," Hiashi bit each word with cold and direct intent. "Neji was. But now he's gone, and our family name is left with only Hanabi to carry its strength into the future."

The poised woman teetered slightly at the invocation of her late cousin's name. "Why do you say such cruel things? Are you trying to hurt me, Father? To make me cry so that I'll change my mind and grovel at your feet to regain your approval?" After a slight hesitation, Hinata stood firm. Her hands raised from her sides and she set them in front of her chest, lightly bent and reaching forward with her fingers unfurling. She was entering a combat stance. "Those days are over. I'm not going to back down from this." She found herself smirking with the memory of the Hokage's reassurance: _Your father has a lot of clout in the village. Once the final roster has been shared with the_ _ **other**_ _villages, however, his ability to change it will become_ _substantially_ _softer. You have my support, and I know you'll also have the support of many others._ She wasn't the only one who was acting in defiance of Hiashi's will, and the people who had her back kept her from falling down. "You can do as you like to me, Father, but the entry will stand regardless. I've made sure of that."

Hiashi clenched his teeth and there was an audible click of molars in the back of his mouth. "So you have. And with the aid of the Sixth Hokage, no less." He took a slow breath, only exhaling when he found the words to speak. "Kakashi Hatake is a brilliant man, as well as a cunning political and military strategist, but his soft spot for the younger generations has made him blind to the importance of maintaining the hierarchy of the Clans."

"Maybe he thinks that it's time for a change, Father..." Hinata's eyes were glistening with tears that refused to fall. She felt strongly about this. "I trust the Hokage's judgement. You should, too."

"You're only speaking for your own gain, naïve girl of mine. You've chosen to trust his judgement because he helped you in your bid to override my wishes. It's true that I _respect_ his abilities as a leader...but I _trust_ only myself. That is why you should obey me—I understand what's best for this clan; for this _village_. This situation is much bigger than you and I, and even him..."

The content of those words sounded eerily familiar. Hinata's raised arms went half-slack but did not return to her sides. She kept them up defensively. "S-say that again...?"

Hiashi pursed his lips harshly and grunted shortly. The vein within his forehead began to show itself, throbbing gently. "I've said enough, child. Know your place."

"I do know, Father. My place is alongside Hanabi and my peers. I belong in the same tournament level as Sakura, Choji, Tenten, and all the others. I know that I am able to defeat any of them." Sweat coalesced on the pale skin of Hinata's forehead and she felt a thickness in her throat. Her father and sister were each reading her statement in their own way. There was silence for another minute.

In time with the abrupt pop of a sparking candle wick, Hiashi's resounding voice came out with a challenge. "Show me, then." He was pointing his eyes toward Hanabi. "That's why you're here, isn't it, Hanabi?" He kept his body squarely faced toward Hinata and did not step away from her; he refused to give any ground. "Come here and show your sister that she is inferior to you."

Hanabi perked up when she was mentioned, but the content of her father's words made her scowl right away. Hinata's defiance had emboldened Hanabi, but not enough to enable her to speak her mind. With a dirty look toward the floor, she thought her real opinion to the wood. _But I've never thought that she was inferior to me. That's just what you've been telling me to believe for the past ten years._ To Hiashi and with a clear voice, she said "Yes, Father." She stepped out of the corner like a chosen gladiator. She looked to Hinata with no emotion present on her skin as she glided with graceful footing up onto the mat.

Hanabi stepped between her sister and her father and faced the former. Hinata stood her ground, but her expression softened and she spoke in a kind whisper to her counterpart. "I don't want to fight you here, Hanabi. It's not the right time."

The younger girl nodded once in subtle agreement, then she spread her feet out and raised her guard. Though her thoughts were aligned with Hinata's statement, Hanabi's words were enslaved to her father. "It's not up to us. It's like Father said—he's the clan head. We both need to obey his wishes." Although she spoke clearly, there was strain in her recitation. It was as if she didn't believe her own statement and Hinata could tell.

The elder sister flexed her shoulders, feeling tension all throughout her nerves, veins, and airways. Such a statement sounded so bizarre coming from her young and rebellious sibling. "Since when have you been so well-behaved? You know as well as I do that if we settle this now, neither of us will win in his eyes. No good can come of it. Even after you beat me, it won't be enough to satisfy him...it never is." Hinata looked past Hanabi's low head and stared hotly into her father's steely gaze. "You don't have to listen to what _he_ tells you to do, Hanabi." Hinata was pleading, but she tried to do it softly and with a straight face.

Despite the quiet effort, Hiashi heard each word and had something unflinching to say. "Yes she does. And so do you. Do not forget whose name you carry, Hinata; it's _my_ name. My blood is in your veins. My eyes are in your skull. You are my child, and thus you owe your entire life to me. I will guide you as I see fit. Such is how my father raised me, and how his father raised him. There is tradition grown into the backbone of this clan, and I will not see it soiled by this act of petty rebellion. You'll not be the one to destroy us from within after so many generations of triumph. Now, Hinata, you can either fall into your rightful place, or you can show me that you are strong enough to change things by defeating your sister."

Hanabi was visibly torn between two equally-loved members of her family. Each of them had given her their request, and she struggled to make the choice. Fight her sister or betray her father. It was difficult to decide, but the struggle was only for her heart. Her body, on the other hand, had already been conditioned to obey Hiashi's every single wish. She inched the tip of her foot closer to where Hinata held her ground, but she did not move to strike yet. She stood there in combat position with her mind racing and her fingers and toes fidgeting. _She's right, though, Father._ Hanabi winced as if preparing for a blow from behind for suggesting the notion within her thoughts alone. Fortunately, Hinata's confidence came quicker than Hanabi's lack of surety.

Just when she had been mentally preparing to battle against her sister, Hinata found herself picturing in her head what Sasuke might have said if he were in her position, and without time to think it through she blurted it out: "Don't make her fight your battles for you, Father! If it's this important to you, then you should show me yourself!"

The challenge was like a ringing gong. It was the precise button which she had to press to make Hiashi drop his guise of civility and bring out the broiling rage that had been so expertly hidden. He snarled and showed his teeth. They resembled the fangs of a bear, and nothing less. A huge, powerful hand quickly came to Hanabi's shoulder and pushed the waiting daughter aside with more roughness than was acceptable. _"So be it!"_ he snarled.

The younger girl who was ready for a fight suddenly stumbled aside with a _"Hey!"_ and caught her balance two steps later. When she turned to scowl at her indecisive father, she suddenly felt as if she didn't belong in there anymore. Hanabi trembled when she beheld the looks on the faces of her family. So serious, so deadly. Even the young killer couldn't help but be washed aside by the opposing tidal waves of ferocity that were pushing against one another. She took a delicate step back, and then another, eventually leaving the mat and placing her back to the wall and absently hugging her arms around her chest. She wanted to leave, but she knew that she had to stay. She had to know what was about to happen, no matter how ugly it was going to get.

Hinata looked like she was finally ready. At last, she was serious. It was as Sasuke said—she would have to fight him eventually to really understand his mindset. What better time was there than that very night, with those very hands? She could still feel the residual shocks of chakra in her fingertips after fighting Kiba. She was charged, ready to clash. Ready to win. No matter how powerful Hiashi Hyuuga truly was, Hinata Hyuuga had something he did not: Sasuke's unparalleled training. She wished that her mentor was there to see her standing up for herself, but when it got to the truth of the matter, she wasn't doing it for him. She was doing it for herself. That's what all of this was about. Not Sasuke, or Hanabi, or Naruto. Neither did it relate to Kiba, Kurenai, or Shino. It wasn't even related to Shell. No, in the end, she wanted to be strong for strength's own sake. She wanted to be different from the girl she used to be; the girl who always lost. The one who lost to Neji, lost to Pain, and lost to Shell. She had even lost to Sakura when it came to love. After all that, at long last, Hinata felt that it was time to win.

Hiashi took Hanabi's place on the mat and with resolute, massive movements, he got into a stance with one hand stretched out and the other reserved defensively near his abdomen. Even the slight shifts in posture were accompanied by heavy, rumbling shifts in the wind of the room. His feet touched the mat with thumps of power and his eyes never flinched. His mouth was a flat line, neither angry nor satisfied. He was impossible to read, even for Hinata. He had shut himself off and was acting entirely based on impulse, now. He spoke with the voice a man might reserve for his mortal enemy. "Raise your guard, child."

Hinata thought she would have gulped at such a time, but she was high on adrenaline and determined to see it through. "I'm not a child anymore." It was the only reply that felt natural; she had previously said all that needed to be said. Rather than raise her guard, she decided to show him that she was no longer going to play by his rules. Her Byakugan was instantly activated, giving her a flawless perspective of the room and of the man who stood dauntingly within it. With a sudden thrust of her legs and a grunt of effort she was shoved toward him with an outstretched palm aimed straight for his chin. Her form was perfect, her execution swift. The air parted before her hand as if to make a desperate attempt to escape the rising heat and pressure, creating a hissing snap in its wake.

Hiashi did not flinch. He had not expected his timid child to strike with such conviction, but the surprise was not quite enough to tip him off his well-found balance. With an easy lean to his left, his head was taken out of Hinata's striking arc and his right arm was lifted to bat her wrist aside with the back of a hand. To his surprise once more, the swiftness of his fluid deflection did not compromise the girl's footing, and she was already bringing her other arm up to aim an elbow for where his face had dropped to. _She anticipated my avoidance pattern and set me up for a second blow,_ he mused as his own second arm came to knock her oncoming strike up and aside over his head. There was a startling weight to her attacks, more so than Hiashi would have anticipated. Speed, too. He was quite frankly stunned by her capabilities, coupled with the fact that she showed no fear. That said, no matter how much she had improved she was not yet in a position to pressure him. He was allowing her to make her statement with her open palms and closed fists, but every time he permitted her fingers to come close to his face, shoulder, or chest, he abruptly skirted to one side or the other before the last hair. He moved with grace above all; strength came second.

Hinata continued a valiant assault, and she aimed for her father's vulnerabilities—or what she thought to be such. Every time she convinced herself that she had finally trapped him in a pattern, she woefully caught nothing but hot wind in her grasp. _He's faster than I thought._ She stepped closer, hoping to force Hiashi to give away ground and acknowledge her threatening presence, but instead of backing up to offset the girl's encroachment, the towering man embraced the imposed nearness and used his new leverage put more strength into his deflections. Somehow, Hinata found herself being pushed back in the steady hail of blows, even despite the fact that she was the only one actively attacking. It was like fighting a growing balloon; the harder she swung, the further she was repelled by the rebound. Hiashi so far had made no overtly offensive moves. He was an impenetrable shield of muscle and bone that would not allow any of Hinata's precision hits to land on anything softer than an elbow. It was nothing like her fight with Kiba, who seemed to move through a Finally, after several volleys of open-palmed strikes, Hinata dropped down with a bend of her knees and stuck a leg out, pivoting on an ankle and trying to sweep Hiashi's feet out from beneath him. It was a recent tactic, but one that had worked for her before. Yet again, Hiashi did not give any ground—he did not step back to avoid her. He did not even do a full hop to rise over. Instead, as if mocking his daughter's speed, he raised one foot and then the other, as if leisurely passing over a low fence in a quiet garden.

As his feet returned to the mat, Hiashi derided Hinata with calm breaths. "You haven't yet earned the confidence that you've shown me." Hinata whirled upright and aimed another palm toward her dad's chest. This time he caught her by the wrist and stopped her momentum an inch before her outstretched fingers would have come into contact with his robe. He worked hard to keep her strength at bay; she had more force and sustained pressure than he assumed. Still, her solid technique was not enough to overcome his. "Certainly you have gotten stronger, but it is not enough to defy me so brazenly and escape unscathed." With a little bit more effort, Hiashi began to push back, overcoming Hinata's strength and forcing her to take a step away in order to hold herself steady. She was trapped at an angle that prevented her from gaining the proper leverage to make an effective strike with her other arm, essentially captured, but fortunately in a stalemate as her father was under the same dilemma. Hiashi's daughter winced at him, but she did not cry out in pain no matter how hard he squeezed her wrist. With frustration evident, the father clenched his teeth and decided it was time to show her the truth. "Now that you've had your turn, allow me to demonstrate why you will never be capable of taking my place."

Hinata's eyes went wide. Hiashi's body was suddenly filled with an excess of chakra, and she saw the bright blue flames of energy seeping through every opening of his network. He was activating the Gentle Fist. Her rational mind was screaming at her to surrender, to apologize, to beg forgiveness. Perhaps it wasn't too late. Perhaps she _should_ have obeyed her last gasps of rationality, but it was far too late to convince her heart and soul of that. Her own body began to fill with chakra, the system within her bursting at the seams as if her power had grown more quickly than she was able to contain. She was rising to match her father's show of force, meeting his swelling Jyuuken with the preparation of her own. Though she was still tightly contained in his grip, she was refusing to back down. And so Hinata answered her father's disapproval with a show of ultimate disrespect. "From where I stand, your heart looks frozen...right now I don't _want_ to follow in your footsteps, Hiashi." Her words came out like a volley of over-sharp shuriken, and Hiashi's body tensed as if he had taken a hard blow to the solar plexus.

She had dared to refer to him by his given name alone. Not as Father, or as Lord, or even as his full moniker. Just 'Hiashi.' She knew of his weaknesses, after all. To a man of his stature, the blasé simplicity of the name caused a stabbing pain. Of all the things that had been said that night, that was the one selection that the head of the Hyuuga Clan could not forgive. "You've become quite the petulant little brat, Hinata. I have always known you to be weak, but this long string of blatant disrespect is a new disappointment entirely." With that, he released the girl's wrist and went on the offensive before she could regain control of herself. While she tried to disengage, he aimed a pointed thrust at her upper left shoulder just beside the beginning of her collarbone, a thrust which landed without adequate protest and injected a powerful surge of chakra into her network. To Hiashi's dissatisfaction, Hinata's formidable energies withstood his attempt to seal the crucial point in her pathway. The impact of the blow nonetheless knocked the girl up off her feet and sent her body through the air. She did not land flat on her back, though; she caught herself on both heels and skidded to a stop within the bounds of the training mat.

After a gasp of breath and a short wobble of imbalance, Hinata sternly looked her father in the eyes. "I've given up on trying to appease you," she declared with the slightest of winces in the corner of her eye. Although her chakra pathway hadn't been fully closed, she had definitely felt the intensity of the blow against her shoulder. Physically, she was well on the way to developing a whopping bruise, and the pain made her left arm just a little bit harder to hold up. "I've done many things in my life that I didn't want to do, all because I felt compelled to obey your instructions. I did it without question, hoping that from time to time you might smile in my direction and give me a word of encouragement." She paused in her speech to take a deep breath, steadying herself. The hit to her shoulder caused more discomfort than she could take without showing it. Her father hit significantly harder than Shell ever did, and with deadlier precision. It was a miracle that her shoulder wasn't paralyzed, but her combat instinct had thankfully forced her chakra to push Hiashi's assault outward, rather than letting it invade. As such, she minimized the damage. "I've seen hints of your love throughout my life... short glimpses of the kind of man you could have been if you had chosen to ignore your status as clan head and focus on what's really important...but in the end, no matter how warm your smile, you've always returned to the coldness. It feels like resentment. I want you to love me, Father, but I've come to accept that that's a dream of mine which will never come true."

Hinata took a step forward, ignoring the pain in her shoulder and bringing her hands together forcefully into a sign of ninjutsu. She had staved off one heavy blow with what seemed to be luck, but she doubted that she would be able to withstand another one intact. Already, she could feel the flow of her chakra becoming sluggish down her left arm. She couldn't hold back any longer. With quickness to match the element she was forming, her fingers weaved together and changed positions in practiced progressions. "I've found somebody else who makes me strong. Somebody who looks at me with the respect and admiration I used to want from you...and there's something more there, too." She frowned with determination. "I know that I've done something to hurt the clan's reputation, and it's something that might sully your authority within this house. I don't expect you to understand why I did it. I don't expect you to forgive me, either." Her eyes began to spark with white-blue energy as the chakra within her body began to change into a shocking nature. "I only expect you to witness the fact that I've outgrown the shackles I was born into. No matter what my name is, I'm not yours to command any more."

Hiashi observed Hinata's chakra system through the use of his Byakugan. He could see every one of her pathways filled with energy, but it was not the bright blue color he expected to see within her. It was tainted in some way, dyed by a darker shade of chakra that was smoothly mixed in as if over a long period of time. It was a subtle alteration, but the power that surged inside of that woman was no longer of the same purity that it used to be. Hiashi tightened his visage and lowered his stance. "Shackles..." The clan head uttered with a bitter taste. "So that's how you view our family. Does that include your sister, and your late mother as well?"

Hinata's nostrils opened a little bit as she gasped inward, keeping her mouth shut. What had she been saying? She had gotten so caught up in specifically defying her father that she was inadvertently offending the entire clan with her choice of words. She shook her head calmly and sighed. "No, not the entire family...it's not their fault. It's just you." Her hand signs were complete, and the fingers of her right hand began to crackle with white chakra. It was formless and uncontained, so it was not a proper Chidori, but it was a rough approximation based on what she had seen Sasuke perform in the past. The snapping electricity lit the room with bluish illumination which offset the bright orange light of the candles. "I don't hate my family, or our traditions...I don't hate you, either, Father. I'm only doing this because I belong in the tournament with my peers. You can't deny that."

Hiashi scowled as he watched the lightning jump from his daughter's hand. He briefly looked to Hanabi, curious about her reaction—stunned silence, as predicted. Her jaw was hanging dumbly down like she had looked too long at the sun and forgotten how to turn away. With a sigh, Hiashi brought his left hand up in front of his chest. "Do not presume to have impressed me. A technique of that level is child's play." He, too, gathered chakra in his digits, but he did not alter the nature. "How can you expect me to take you seriously if you refuse to acknowledge your own weaknesses?"

Hinata didn't falter. The lightning remained strong against her fingers; she could feel the currents forcing through her nerves and heightening her senses by proximity. She heard the astounded breaths of her sister more vividly, and she could practically taste the evaporated wax from the candles as it drifted through the air she breathed. "Prepare yourself, Father." She refused to respond directly to his belittling speech. She was wielding a new power that had not yet been fully tested. Sasuke had taught her a few theories and possibilities, but she had not been given adequate time to practice their execution outside of the genjutsu world they shared. She knew that she could not overcome her father's raw power in a straight-up clash, but she also knew of a way that she could bypass his power altogether—at least in theory.

Hiashi was quiet, as he did not need to prepare himself. He regretted that it had come to that point, but it did, and he could see it in his daughter's eyes that she was truly not going to take back what she had done. She believed it to be the right thing to do. He understood her decision, though he dared not admit it. He felt her determination, though he dared not praise it. He had witnessed her incomprehensible growth in strength, speed, and chakra control, but he refused to show his pleasant surprise. To his daughter, he was stone; insurmountable, unfeeling, damp stone. All he did was nod to her with his hand held out, challenging her to come forward with her vibrant fist of electrical chakra. His fist was surrounded by his chakra, too, but it had no elemental nature. It was pure, unfiltered energy, and it remained invisible to the naked eye. To the Byakugan, however, it would resemble a drill; a swirling cone of anger with a single sharp poker at its tip. He could see it, and Hinata could see it.

What else Hinata could see was the fact that she had never been able to land a hit upon her father. He had parried her or dodged her at every step. She did not know what it felt like to shove her fist into his face or land a row of fingers against his vulnerable abdomen. Though she did not hate him, she wanted to know how it felt to cause him pain. To force him to see her as a factor. With that determination in her head she burst forward with her voltage-capped hand outstretched. She shouted with all her might and opened her eyes as wide as they could open. She could not afford to miss, could not afford to blink. Even the Byakugan might have been deceived by the speed and cunning of her father, but she did not let that happen. She watched as he stood his ground and aimed his hand directly at hers—he could have tried to circumvent her jutsu altogether and landed a blow to her vulnerable core, but he chose to match the heat with his own violently spinning chakra. That was subtle proof that he saw her lightning as enough of a threat to deserve a direct counter.

After a moment of suspended silence while they traveled faster than sound, the two techniques clashed in the center of the room over the mat and there was an immediate shockwave that bubbled outward and snuffed every candle in the room. The walls billowed out and some of the paper panels of the door blew open and were ripped out of their frames. The light within the dojo turned eerily pale and flickered with undulating instability as Hinata's lightning struck spinning invisibility. The sound was like grinding two sheets of rusted iron together, an unnatural and vibrating shriek penetrating the air. Although Hinata was shorter and had smaller arms, she held up against the shove of her father's power; while she held firm bodily, she felt her feet skidding on the mat, and she was being pushed back. Hiashi's face was determined as it faded in and out of the dark. The center of Hinata's technique began to lose its integrity against the steady motion of Hiashi's chakra 'drill' until the very center of the loose electrical orb abruptly opened up. Though the majority of the technique was intact, the central wall that had been formed by the lightning was suddenly gone, leaving her hand exposed to the impending attack. Hiashi knew that he was victorious.

And that was the moment Hinata was waiting for. It was a split second of opportunity that she did not waste.

With a steep inhale and a painful exertion of chakra, Hinata's hand opened up and her fingers clamped down against Hiashi's own to seize his hand in place. She felt the agonizing friction of his aggressive chakra against her palm, but she had felt worse pain before—she endured it as a shinobi should, and carried out the rest of her plan. Hiashi's chakra was focused in his hand, and so was Hinata's in hers—but as mentioned, the difference between the two was that Hinata had been trained by Sasuke Uchiha. Abruptly, the malformed ball of lightning retreated from her hand and reshaped into bolts of lightning around her wrist. The shifting energies resembled grasping talons that extended out from her wrist like a hungry charm bracelet. The claws opened up and snaked above and below Hiashi's hand to find the mid-section of his forearm, clamping down like the talons they resembled and driving sharp lightning into Hiashi's limb, effectively circumventing the main focal point of his attack.

Hiashi was taken by surprise. The chakra in his arm tried to stave off the attack, but as he forced his system to respond to the shock, he found that the technique went much deeper than an average jolt. It wasn't simply Chidori, nor was it a mediocre example of a change in chakra form. It was integrated with Gentle Fist; the voltage that burned through Hiashi's sleeve and chomped into his flesh was shutting down his chakra network and draining the throughput of his own technique. Against his will, the swirling drill that ate away at Hinata's flesh was suddenly gone, leaving his bare fingers helplessly in her grasp while the shocking numbness continued to spread up and down his arm. He was stunned by his own surprise for just a moment, but before his daughter had the chance to follow up on her inconceivable upper hand, Hiashi's other arm shot forward with fingers outstretched and met her left shoulder in exactly the same location as the prior blow. He grunted with effort as he shoved his middle, pointer, and ring fingers hard into the flesh near her collar bone. A yelp was earned from the girl as she felt the renewed pain and was abruptly torn away from her moment of triumph. This time, though it took a mighty effort on behalf of Hiashi, the chakra point was successfully shut down, thus the flow of her technique was irrevocably disrupted. As its power source was cut off, the lightning vanished in phases: first the talons, then the arcs that had shot off of Hinata's arm, then finally the residual jolts that buzzed in the air around the pair.

When the charge was finally gone, Hiashi mimicked Hinata's earlier attempt to sweep his ankles. His move was trained and accurate, catching her feet with the back of his heel and yanking both legs to one side of her. As she lost her balance and found herself suspended in the air, she felt the firm thrust of a right hand being shoved into her chest with enough force to launch her backward. Air whooshed behind her back as she sailed through emptiness, only stopping when her shoulder blades hit a sturdy wooden stud lining the otherwise fragile plaster walls of the dojo. She grunted harshly and felt the wind escape her body when she impacted the plank. She crumpled down a half-second later and hit the wooden floor on the border of the room with an anticlimactic thud. Her left arm was fully paralyzed, this time, and she only barely managed to catch herself on her right side. She winced and shut her eyes as she collided with the wood floor just beyond the mat, trying to hold back another screech of hurt. She could not stand up. The impact against her shoulder had sent ripples that could be felt throughout her entire body. Despite her determination, it was another defeat after all.

Silence reigned, and although the room was completely blackened save for a few slivers of light that reached from the hallway, the Byakugan's keen vision allowed all three within the dojo to see clearly. Hinata's vision was fading, however, as her chakra reserves were running low in the wake of Hiashi's forceful injection against her pressure point. She did not speak, merely breathed in a heap with her eyes pointed toward a nonspecific point on the wall. She could not face her father after what she had said, what she had done, and how badly she had lost. He was still far above her league, no matter how much she had improved. Sasuke must have overestimated her when he advised her to challenge him.

After waiting briefly for an apology that never came, Hiashi spoke in her stead. "As I said, child...you are not strong enough to defy me and escape unscathed." He used his right arm to brush the dust off of his left shoulder, then turned his back on his defeated daughter with an arrogant huff. "That said..." he added, turning his head over his shoulder. "I can see that you will never change your mind. You will not decide ask for my forgiveness if you have not done so by now." He looked toward Hanabi as if to apologize to her for what he was about to say. "With that in mind, in addition to the fact that the Hokage has already finalized the roster with the other villages...I have no choice but to permit you to fight in the General Tier of the upcoming tournament." A moment of quiet for the dust to settle. "And you will do so with my blessing."

Hinata had been quiet until that point, but suddenly her eyes opened wide again and her heartbeat began to race. "W-what did you say?" She couldn't move her arm but that didn't stop her from suddenly finding the strength to stand up and face him. He wasn't looking at her, but she could feel a sort of peacefulness coming off of his back. "Did you say...with your blessing?" She couldn't believe what her brain told her she heard; she blamed the ringing in her head for distorting the truth.

Hiashi nodded his head, though there was some reluctance. "That's right. Hinata. You have changed. I have seen your capabilities, and I now see that you are too powerful for the Beginner Tier." He smirked where she could not see it with her disabled Byakugan. "If anything would be embarrassing for this family, it would be entering a woman as strong as you at a level so far beneath her remarkable capabilities."

"But...you defeated me so easily, Father. And I have been so disrespectful...how can it be that I've earned your blessing?" Hinata was hesitant, as if she expected him to take his decision back and punish her further.

"It seems that I have misjudged your potential, and for that I do apologize. Upon the initial announcement, I had decided to enter you at the beginner level to ensure that our clan sees—at minimum—one championship in this tournament. I had faith in you for that much." He looked over his shoulder with a stern frown. "Now that I have seen your true potential, however, I cannot justify such overkill. Instead of picking off Genin and Chunin far beneath you, I will have you fight in the same league as your sister to eliminate your competitors one at a time, and if need be, you two will fight against one another for the title. There is no better insurance of the family's success than having both of you in the final match."

Hinata didn't feel the pain anymore. It was replaced by an unfamiliar fuzzy feeling. "I...don't know what to say, Father," Hinata was choked up, taking a step closer to Hiashi as if she were about to give him a hug from behind with just one working arm.

As she approached, though, Hiashi gave a stern command that stopped her. "Leave us now, Hinata. There is nothing left to say. I have given my orders. You will participate in the General Tier." Though he was blunt and unkind, the message rang much deeper than the tone. He accepted her choice. Begrudgingly, perhaps, but it was spoken.

"Y-yes, Father!" Hinata said with giddy enthusiasm. That was one order she had no problem accepting. The high tension of the situation was suddenly diffused completely. She felt absolutely victorious despite the fresh feeling of a wooden floor against her unprotected cheek. She was sure that the shallow spacing lines between boards had left an impression on her face, but she didn't even care. She shivered with delight as she pulled open the half-ruined door to the dojo and stepped into the hallway. She closed the door behind her, leaving Hanabi and Hiashi alone in the darkness.

Hanabi stood up after three minutes, finally processing all that had happened before her eyes. She also wanted to be positive that Hinata had gotten far away from that room. Still, she whispered. She was skeptical. "What was that, Father? It's not like you to change your mind after you've given an order."

Hiashi was hesitant to answer, but he could no longer keep his intentions bottled up. "Truthfully, I loathe changing my decisions...but I have been presented with an interesting opportunity to see Hinata's full potential. Did you see her drive? Her resilience?" He looked with admiration toward the door. "That woman who just left this room is the person I've wanted Hinata to grow up to become ever since stripping her of the title of heiress." He looked down to his hand and clenched it into a fist. "I thought I was guiding her along the right path, with all the right guidelines...it confounds me that she only became such a strong person after I tried to force her to do something she didn't wish to do... Perhaps it's my fault that she started so shy and meek; in being so rigid, I was stifling her growth. Discouraging her from becoming the person she was fated to be." He looked to Hanabi, then, and frowned further. "Is that what I'm doing to you, too?"

Hanabi blushed slightly. It was extremely odd for her father to act in such a way; had a short exchange of blows really been enough to open him up so much? "I dunno, Father. I've never really thought about it like that before." It was a lie; she _had_ thought about it, but she didn't want to risk walking into a trap. Perhaps this sudden thoughtfulness was a ruse intended to squeeze out any remaining drops of weakness from his 'better' daughter. "I know that you're doing your best to make me strong; you want me to be worthy of taking your place someday. I'm proud of that."

With an accepting nod, he took her answer in stride. "It's good that Hinata is no longer interested in being the heiress," Hiashi mused aloud while looking toward the door. "It may hurt for you to hear this, but as your sister currently stands, Hanabi, you cannot possibly defeat her."

Hanabi blinked and did a double-take between her father and the door. "Wait, what? Weren't you just calling her weak and inferior and all that stuff? What's this 'you cannot defeat her' junk all of the sudden?"

Hiashi chuckled uncharacteristically with anticipation. "I certainly _want_ for you to defeat her in this tournament, Hanabi. I want you to prove that you are the correct choice for the heiress of this family. With that said...Hinata is my daughter, just as you are, and I wish the best for each of you. I owe you this much honesty: her strange new technique is superior to anything I have ever taught you."

Hanabi huffed to herself sarcastically. It's not like she didn't know where that technique came from. _Thanks a lot, Sasuke..._ She peered up at her father and furrowed her brow. "So teach me something better. We've got a month, still, right? There's no way I'm going to let her beat me after all the fuss we've gone through to train all these years!" Hanabi clenched a small fist and pursed her lips firmly.

Hiashi nodded. "Yes. I think it's time that we returned to training. Relight the candles so that we might have the traditional setting." He looked down to his left hand, this time, and hummed to himself. "Before we begin, however...I'd like for you to go find a medic."

Hanabi quirked a brow, looking confused. "A medic?" She asked oddly. "What for?"

With no small amount of shame, Hiashi held up the arm that had been encased in Hinata's clamping electricity. Though the darkness concealed much of the details, it was clear that the sleeve had been burned off of his robe and the flesh beneath was various shades of black and red, accompanied by the aroma of recently-scorched skin. Each digit of his hand appeared to be locked in place as he turned his arm at the elbow to show the damage. "Because I can no longer move anything past my elbow...and the numbness is continuing to spread further."

Hanabi gulped. No _wonder_ her father had such a sudden change of heart—he came much closer to being outright defeated than he would ever openly admit. If Hinata had managed to keep her grip for just a few seconds longer...well...Hanabi didn't want to imagine the potential outcome, or what it might have meant for the future of the clan. She distracted herself with the simple task of finding a medic; there were several of them within the family, she just needed to find one who was home already. "Right away, Father. I'll be back quickly." She left in a hurry, all the while trying to devise ways to defeat Hinata's new technique, one that nearly bested Hiashi Hyuuga himself. No small task, to be sure, but Hanabi was no small amount of genius.

* * *

 **Now that was a long wait, wasn't it? I'm doubly sorry that this one took as many weeks as it did. I thought I'd have more time once class was out, but as it happens there were some unforeseen detours throughout all of December. My cousin came into town for a week and sucked up all my spare time, then after that my uncle had emergency heart surgery. Silly me, without a laptop, couldn't do any writing while in the waiting room at the hospital (My uncle is doing very well and has already been sent home with the best possible outcome of the surgery; it's all recovery at this point). Then, to top all that off, I helped my dad move from one apartment to another, which took a week or so as well. Again, I apologize! I promise I didn't forget about the story, I just honestly didn't have the time nor energy to commit to writing even though I really, really wanted to.**

 **That said, I really hope you all enjoyed this one. The next chapter won't take nearly as long as this one did (keeping my fingers crossed that something catastrophic doesn't happen to prove me wrong). In any case, I'll see you all next time.**


	40. Lighten Up

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Sasuke noticed that the sun had gone down before he arrived at his destination; in the summer as it was, the days were long, and when the night did finally arrive it was an easy fade rather than the jarring shift of winter. After Hinata and Hanabi left him in the woods, Sasuke had spent nearly an hour by himself, simply reflecting upon the day and what had happened—he was whole again, thanks to a brand new arm and the strengthening affection of a beautiful woman named Hinata. He had claimed to arrive at the woman's side because he intended to cheer her up, but it was as much a selfish act as anything he had ever done. He wanted to see her; he would have been willing to interrupt her reunion with her friends if it were necessary. He smirked to his own rudeness and laid his hand on the door knob in front of him.

Earlier on he had realized that he had never been told exactly where the photographer's studio was, but when he returned to his rented apartment to collect his sword (for its photogenic nature, of course) he found that somebody—Sai, perhaps—had already tacked a note to the front of his door to remind him of the time and location of his appointment. The studio which the address brought him to was fairly large, located in a richer, more spread-out part of the village with plenty of greenery and a wide view of the night sky overhead. Off in the distance, the Hokage Monument with its ever-expanding suite of half-finished skyscrapers loomed imposingly, probably making a nice natural backdrop for pictures taken outside.

Sasuke opened the door in the front and stepped into a cozy waiting room, furnished with comfortable chairs along the perimeter. Framed photographs showcasing some of the studio's more famous clientele were dangling from nails on the wall. Sasuke recognized many of the images: The Fourth Hokage along with Kakashi, Obito, and a girl whose name Sasuke didn't know. Probably their official team photo. He saw his own face on the wall, too; a younger and more naïve version of himself. He was backed by Kakashi and standing beside Sakura and Naruto. That one was displayed rather prominently and in a size that was larger than most, most likely because of Naruto's presence in it. A smaller photo of Naruto in white and red war paint was lurking beneath it. The photographer, Genzo, must have been quite proud of that one despite his protests at the time of its taking. If only he had known then that he was immortalizing the childish attitude of Konoha's ultimate savior.

Further down the wall, Sasuke continued to look at the various images: Team Guy, Team Asuma, and Team Kurenei as well. He saw Hinata in that one, front and center with her dark blue hair cut short and her headband tied around her neck. Everyone in that photograph looked proud to be there—well, except for Shino, but as always it was impossible to tell what he looked like under his collar. His eyebrows were furrowed and tight as if he were unhappy, but with his mouth hidden it was hard to tell if he simply had the same look of determination that Kiba did. Sasuke smirked at the contrast between that photo and his own with Team 7; Team 8 looked in-synch from day one, but Naruto and Sasuke were clearly at odds from the start. The moment that would define their friendship forever was permanently remembered by a sheet of photo paper by an image taken by an archaic camera. It then struck Sasuke that the camera used to take the team photo was the very same camera that had taken the group shot at Naruto's wedding—circumstances had scrambled his mind at the time, but belatedly he recognized the equipment and the photographer himself. Perhaps Genzo was the only (or at least the most dedicated) photographer in all of Konoha, rather than just lucky to be there.

Sasuke couldn't find the wedding photo anywhere on the wall, but it must have been a crowning moment in the studio's career. Sasuke's bandaged left hand came to his chin while he pondered why the image wasn't hanging amidst the other iconic snapshots, but just as he really let his thoughts run away, he saw a silhouette through a paper door near the back of the room and heard it slide open. A young woman with dark brown hair was behind it, all smiles with her head canted aside. "Sasuke Uchiha, I presume? Are you here for your ten o'clock appointment?" Her eyes were closed for how hard she was smiling, and her lips were bright red with presentable lipstick.

Sasuke nodded after a short moment of hesitation. "That's right; I hope I haven't come too late," he answered with a smooth voice that made the receptionist blush.

"N-not at all," she stuttered as she brought her hand bashfully to her cheek. "Actually, you're right on time. Master Genzo is ready to see you now," she invited him closer with a curtsy and a wave of her hand past the door.

 _Oh, so it's 'Master' Genzo now?_ Sasuke snickered quietly to himself as he accepted the woman's invitation into the main depths of the studio. The structure had certainly received an upgrade after the destruction of the village; it went deeper than Sasuke would have expected, and the long hallway took him past several indoor stages for different purposes. Class pictures, intimate family greeting cards, singular portraits—each with its own separate room that was suitably labeled. Sasuke was taken all the way to the end of the hall where one more door stood prominently, and his guiding lady turned the knob and pulled it inward to open the passageway to her guest.

Sasuke was hit with the smell of trees and grass, the sound of chirping night birds accompanying it. He stepped out into the wide-open courtyard, and his soles hit a dirt path carved gently out of the grass. The girl behind him spoke sheepishly, and she didn't make eye contact when Sasuke looked over his shoulder to listen. "Just follow that path; they're waiting for you just behind those trees." She waited to see him nod, then she shut the door—but did not lock it—and quickly escaped the nerve-wracking moment. She was either terrified by him, or overwhelmed by his accidental charisma. Sasuke could rarely tell the difference.

 _Who's 'they?'_ Sasuke found himself thinking. _I thought he worked alone._ He did as instructed and followed the short path, quickly coming to the bundle of thick trees in question. The courtyard as a whole was fairly large, and just as Sasuke had predicted from the front, there were plenty of places along the way with the trees and foliage cleared, making for a straight background shot toward the looming Hokage Monument. It was quite an expensive view; no doubt the old picture-taker had gotten rich off of Naruto's image immediately after the battle with Pain. Even Sasuke had heard the news of that victory in his travels, and Naruto had instantly become a celebrated hero to all the denizens of the Land of Fire.

Through the trees, Sasuke spotted the dusty old camera and had to smile at the nostalgia that flooded him. He recognized it that time; it was definitely the very same one, though with a few added chips and cracks. One of the tripod legs had been glued back on after snapping at some point, but it was a functional piece of equipment all the same. Then Sasuke saw who 'they' were. Genzo was one of them, as expected, but he had company at his side. Company that looked pretty bored, which was typical when it came to situations like the one at hand.

Sasuke tried to hide his scowl. "Naruto," he said as he entered the clearing within the ring of trees. It was a cozy little area meant to simulate a deep forest, with coverage just thick enough so that the clean wooden fence beyond it was completely concealed by thick branches and brush. "Nobody told me you'd be here."

Naruto Uzumaki was indeed there, seated on a decorative rock with his hands impatiently tapping at his knees. His face lit up when he heard Sasuke's voice, and he hopped to stand on the stone and throw both arms out wide. "Sasuke, you made it! I was afraid I'd have to go looking for you." He pointed to Genzo with his thumb, the old man represented best by two sharp fins of white hair separated by a sea of shimmering baldness. "Grandpa here was getting kind of worried that you weren't going to show up."

Sasuke raised a brow. "The girl inside told me that I was on time," he murmured easily. And he _was_ on time; he knew so from the start. "Are you sure that you even know how to read a clock, Naruto?"

Naruto scrunched his mouth and clenched his jaw. " _Hey_ , that's not what I meant. I'm just surprised you showed up on your own, that's all. Normally you have to be pushed into things like this, y'know?" Naruto stepped down off the rock and brushed his sleeves clean.

Sasuke scoffed a little, turning his head away. "Whatever." He peered back to Naruto with a curious squint. "What are you doing here, anyhow? I thought your shoot was already finished."

Naruto shrugged and folded his hands behind his head. "It was, but Grandpa Photographer begged Kakashi-sensei to send me here, too. I guess he wanted to do some pictures with both of us at once?" Naruto scratched his chin with his pointer finger. "Oh, and Kakashi-sensei also wanted me to talk to you about something." Naruto looked ready to talk about it then and there, but he felt a cold stare coming from over his shoulder. Genzo had his camera set up and was looking impatient. Naruto stuttered somewhat submissively. "B-but it can wait until we're done here."

 _What a pushover_ , Sasuke sadly concluded about his long-time rival. "Alright, then. Let's get this business over with." Aside from his sword, Sasuke also brought his dark travel cloak, figuring that if he was meant to play the role of the villain, he should look as dark and menacing as possible on the outside. He pulled the thick cloth from his burgeoning pack and draped it over his shoulders, enjoying the familiar weight as it settled into place. As the trailing fabric blew in the soft wind, Sasuke moved to stand in front of the camera while making eye contact with Genzo. "It's your show, 'Master' Genzo," Sasuke said with a small dose of derision. "Tell me what you want me to do."

Genzo gulped down a lump of nervousness as Sasuke spoke to him, and then he looked to Naruto as if to reassure himself. He looked unsteady, but he cleared his throat and gave the speech he had been practicing for hours: "Well, Sasuke...this tournament is an important event for all of the shinobi villages, but most especially for Konoha! The first day of the contest is approaching, and we need to make a final marketing push to drive traffic and commerce through the gate! Naruto's image is powerful on its own, but he's becoming...well, _boring_." Naruto scowled in the background and looked ready to protest, but he surprisingly held his tongue. Genzo continued none the wiser. "They've seen Naruto plenty of times by now! He's an icon, but a familiar one! That's why we need to dust you off and parade you around a bit—the people of the world have all but forgotten what you even look like. You're here to give the people something threatening, something exotic, something _exciting_. I want you to terrify the camera, thus terrifying the audience who beholds my work! In addition to that, we'll grab a few enticing shots targeting the young female demographic. You're surprisingly popular with them." Genzo moved to stand behind his camera, adjusting the lens with a steady hand. "At first, just let yourself _be_. I'll let you know what I need after that."

Sasuke had already guessed the most of it, but one particular line gave him pause, forcing a double-take. "Wait, what do you mean by ' _enticing shots_ '?" He sounded bothered. He hadn't signed up for anything like _that_. Just as he started to blush at the thought of being marketed to an audience of young girls, the first image was snapped with an abrupt flash. Sasuke looked sternly at the camera and was met with a quick secondary flash, two photos down and neither of them were flattering. He rubbed his eyes to get the impressions of the large camera bulb out of his vision, and by the time he looked back up he was scowling.

"Perfect!" Genzo declared, smirking from within his tarp, viewing his target through the old-style wooden box and feeling protected by the barrier. Were he to be face to face with Sasuke making that scowl, he would have been cowering, but something about the lens was empowering. He felt invulnerable back there, which encouraged his finger to keep clicking through sheet after sheet of thick film. Sasuke grew more and more irritated, but he kept himself in check for the sake of fulfilling his 'mission' to Sai and the Hokage. "That's excellent! Now, let's have you activate your Sharingan; we could really use some of that sinister Uchiha flair!"

The last Uchiha looked rather offended, putting on a frown and shaking his head. "The Sharingan isn't just some toy to be played with, you old codger," Sasuke leered. He had known the inevitable request was coming, but to hear the blasé disrespect caused something to boil up in him. That elderly man was taking the Sharingan for granted. "I agreed to provide my likeness; I never agreed to make light of my clan. It's more than just 'sinister Uchiha flair,' and you ought to show some respect."

Naruto cut in with his patented obnoxiousness: "Oh c'mon, Sasuke! It looks really cool when you've got your Sharingan turned on! Everyone's gonna love it!" The jinchuriki had an innocent grin, like he didn't care that Sasuke was losing patience. Naruto had always sported an air of obliviousness, and it was never more apparent than in that moment. "Just hold it for a couple of pictures, then you can turn it off!"

Sasuke clenched his fists and sighed, feeling a slight tremble in his left arm as he continued to get used to the tingling of the fresh nerves. It would go away eventually, according to Sakura, but it hadn't yet. "I'm starting to have second thoughts about this," Sasuke said sternly toward Naruto, all but ignoring the photographer. It was a glare worthy of a death threat, and even Naruto looked about two shades paler once he locked eyes with Sasuke's intensity.

 _Snap!_ Another photo was taken without courtesy. Sasuke slowly turned toward the camera with the same glare. His eyes silently curled into red discs, and the familiar tomoe spun into position around his pupils. "So...you want to see the Sharingan, old man...? Let me show it to you..." Sasuke took a dangerous step forward, and while Naruto flexed his hands and narrowed his eyes in preparation, Genzo took another photo: _Snap!_ Sasuke's eyes continued to evolve, taking on their Mangekyo form as he reached for the hilt of his sword with his left hand. Within the space of the camera's next flash, the sword was yanked from its sheathe and drawn out fluidly, entering into an arc that would have seen the old wooden box sliced clean in half. With a sudden jolt of pain and seizure, Sasuke's elbow tensed up and refused to keep moving, halting his swing just inches before the prized antique photo-box would have been cleanly bisected in front of its owner's twinkling eyes. No, he wasn't yet used to the new arm; it was refusing to obey his commands. Fortunately for Genzo's camera, the paralysis of Sasuke's arm lasted long enough for the proud to Uchiha come to his senses. _Calm down,_ Sasuke told himself. _He's a fool, but not an enemy._

The moment was lingeringly tense. Sasuke stood frozen with his sword's tip touching the camera's lens and his eyes burning brightly in the darkness of the night. The swordsman was trembling, panting in the aftermath of his near-outburst and struggling to calm his muscles from their intended action before his arm escaped its immobility. Naruto was midway through the act of running to intercept the sword, but he paused when Sasuke's arm did, his own hand outstretched and teeth clenched with worry. The two god-like shinobi were silent and still. Genzo remained oblivious as he commended the realism: "Say, Sasuke, you're a natural! That's quite a scary pose you're in!" _Snap!_ "The Hokage is going to be very happy with this one!"

Sasuke didn't flinch toward the flash that time, as he was in an entirely different mindset than he was before. More so than the failure of his arm and the guilt that suddenly rushed his mind, he was awash with the realization of why Naruto was there. Not just for a few rivalry photos, but as a guarantee of protection. Kakashi didn't trust Sasuke to be there with the photographer by himself. And as much as Sasuke wanted to be angry at the fact, he admittedly realized that the hunch was correct. He _couldn't_ be trusted by himself, at least not in a situation like that. He recognized his flaw: his pride in the Sharingan and the Uchiha name in general was still enough to drive him to act on violent impulse. And though he recognized the problem, he could not fix it. It was deeply ingrained, nurtured since childhood and retained deliberately through adulthood. Another photo was taken while Sasuke stood still, arm outstretched with his sword just a millimeter away from touching the huge, delicate lens of the camera.

"That's enough of that," Genzo announced from his sheltered position beneath a dark blue tarp. "We've got plenty of villain shots now." A hand came out from the tarp and made a thumbs-up gesture. "You can put the sword away and deactivate your eyes now. I really appreciate your willingness to cooperate!"

The tension remained for just a moment, but Sasuke eventually relented and willed his arm to move again, overcoming the temporary halt in motion in order to slide the blade back into its scabbard. "Of course, Master Genzo," Sasuke hummed as naturally as he could. "I'm obligated to cooperate as part of my promise to the Hokage; he's counting on me to make the tournament as successful as possible. For the sake of Konoha and its people." Despite his misgivings, and although he would never vocally admit it, Sasuke was proud of the photos taken a moment before. As Genzo had said: terrify the camera to terrify the audience. If nothing else, his genuine anger would translate perfectly onto film and give Kakashi exactly what he was looking for. Plus, it would be a frightening enough image to ensure that anybody who looked at it would properly respect the Sharingan. As Sasuke's eyes faded into neutral blackness, Naruto could sense the tension lift from the moment, and he heaved a collected sigh.

New orders came. "Alright, now take off that cloak. It's time to appease the girlies." Genzo had a tone of almost perverse delight in his voice, and the camera was zoomed out by a twist of his hand to effectively frame all of Sasuke's body in the shot.

Sasuke hesitated again, but rather than put up a protest he complied with a nod and pulled the cloak off to fold it neatly into his pack. It had done its job well, but it was no longer needed. Beneath it was Sasuke's standard indigo vest with short sleeves. It was zipped all the way up the middle, reaching the front of Sasuke's lower neck. He had long ago stopped wearing the high, fluttering collar of his teenaged years, finding it a bit garish as he grew older and replacing it with one that barely reached his chin. Not even Sasuke Uchiha was immune to phases of fashion, and he certainly had a bit of shame in his memories, just like anyone else growing up. He still occasionally had regrets about the number of belts he wore to face Gaara in the Chunin Exams, but it had certainly seemed like a good idea at the time.

With the cloak folded, Genzo nodded under his tarp. "Alright, now unzip your shirt a little."

Sasuke blinked. "Unzip my shirt...?" He looked down at his chest, understanding what the photographer was going for. "Is that really necessary? It doesn't seem like something the Hokage would ask for."

Genzo scoffed. "Gah, the Hokage has no artistic vision—with all due respect, he would never make it as an image capturing specialist like myself!" An arrogant finger was raised into the air, as if he were willing himself to be struck by a bolt of lightning charged by his own pure artistic genius.

Sasuke scoffed as well. _Artistic vision...? You're successful because you happened to be the only one to take pictures of Naruto,_ Sasuke wanted to say, but he kept quiet. "Fine," he eventually agreed and brought his hand up to the zipper of his vest. He didn't have another shirt underneath, courtesy of the humid air of the night, so as he pulled the interlocking strip apart one tooth at a time, his relatively pale chest came into view with all its finely detailed musculature on display. He brought the opening down low enough to pass under his ribs, giving plenty to look at without fully removing the vest—that's something he refused to do, on principle. A light sheen of sweat completed the image and served to make him look active and serious. His hair, too, despite being meticulously touched up along the way, was lightly mussed by wind and his own movement.

"That'll do it!" Genzo said with excitement in his breaths. "Fold your arms and look like you don't want to be here—that drives the girls _wild_!" Sasuke complied, having given up any kind of resistance. It wasn't difficult for him to look like he wanted to be someplace else, anyway. _Snap!_ The quicker he followed instructions, the sooner it would all be over with. "Alright, alright...now run your hand through your hair like you just got out of the shower! Turn your head a little bit more to the left...little more...there it is! Close your eyes about halfway, and...perfect! Hold that pose!" _Snap, snap, snap._ "Smirk at me just a little, show more teeth—no, no, less tooth than that. Annnd...hold!" _Snap._ That leg of the photo-shoot seemed to last a bit longer than the previous one, and it was a tad bit more humiliating because of its purpose. As all things do, it eventually came to an end. "Alright, alright, that's enough of that...zip your vest, it's time to get a few shots of your ninjutsu in action."

Sasuke sighed, looking up to the sky as he brought the zipper back to its highest point. _Another segment?_ "How much film does that camera even hold?" He wondered idly aloud, musing for his own benefit rather than asking an actual question.

Naruto answered the inquiry anyway, having grown bored during the 'fanservice' shoot and been looking for an excuse to make himself known again. "When I was here before, he told me that it holds 'as many pictures as it takes to illustrate true genius.' I'm thinking that's a pretty high number, y'know?"

Sasuke smirked at the blowhard's indirect reply, tsking with his tongue. "Yeah, well...I've got places to be, so I hope his genius doesn't take much longer to manifest itself."

Naruto hummed skeptically. "Last I heard, you were off doing your own thing without Kakashi-sensei's permission...at least this is something you're _supposed_ to be doing."

"You've been talking to Kakashi, then?" Although he wasn't surprised, Sasuke looked a tad bit annoyed, then sighed in a helpless way. In truth, his nightly excursions against crime were weighing down on him, making him doubt the village as a whole. He was forced to see it as something other than the home he grew up in—it was rotting, becoming blackened with the hatred that once consumed him, but now it was coming from others and spiraling out of control. "I know that your intentions are good, but you shouldn't get involved in any of this, Naruto—you're not going to like what you uncover if you do."

Naruto, in an impulsive attempt to stand up to Sasuke, stepped boldly into frame without paying attention to the cameraman, arms folded on his chest and head tilted up arrogantly. "Don't even try to talk me out of it. You should know that I can handle anything, Sasuke—after all, I handled _you_ , didn't I? What can be more dangerous than that?"

"You're delusional—it was a draw, Naruto," Sasuke answered with a bit of strategic defensiveness. Having caught something in Naruto's eye, Sasuke was going to give Genzo something to really sink his 'artistic' teeth into. "We were both going to bleed out in the end, remember?"

"Maybe, but you're the only one who admitted defeat!" Naruto interjected with a raised finger pointed in Sasuke's direction, scrunching his brow. _Snap!_ "Don't go taking it back now just because you're feeling sorry for yourself!"

"I was being polite at the time, loser. You did me a favor, and I was thanking you for it by letting you claim a victory." Sasuke replied without hesitation, turning to face Naruto and laying his hand menacingly upon the hilt of his sword. _Snap!_ "Watch yourself, I can tell from here that you're out of practice..."

Naruto clenched his fists and thumped his left fist onto his chest. "Don't underestimate me; Kurama and I have never felt better! Plus I've got some new moves I've been itching to try out on you!" Naruto's eyes began to flicker with a golden lining, and it started to grow across his face, emphasizing his whiskers and causing his flesh to transform with the same light. "If you don't want to take me seriously, I'll just have to show you how much I've improved..." Naruto's voice got less playful and much more intense. _Snap!_

As if in response to the creeping glow of Naruto's chakra, Sasuke's eyes began to shift from black to red, then further still into their Mangekyo pattern. He boasted: "When we fought, my left eye was still fresh; I was still learning how to control it." On cue, the eye in question took the shape of numerous circles, each larger than the one before it until the full orb was purplish-gray in color, dotted with trios of tomoe along the concentric sections. "Now, I've had plenty of time to get accustomed to my power. You don't stand a chance against me anymore, no matter how much chakra you borrow from the fox." _Snap!_

Naruto stepped forward with a growl, his body cloaked outwardly by golden chakra and lined with a blackened shirt and pants underneath. Patterns which consisted of curves and flame-like symbols covered much of the chakra-molded outfit. Naruto abruptly reached out to tightly snatch the collar of Sasuke's vest, then shouted with irritation: "I've told you before that his name is Kurama! Why won't you use his real name, dammit!?" Sasuke didn't even flinch as he stood in Naruto's grasp. _Snap!_

Then, Sasuke's right hand—because the left was in no condition to challenge Naruto's grasp—came up to hold onto the golden wrist of his rival. Hard fingers dug into the layer of chakra and caused it to crinkle beneath his grip. The defense was strong, powerfully resisting the pressure laid onto it. Sasuke was pleased to feel something so tough after so long; he was growing tired of paper, and even of cardboard. He wanted to crush _steel_ , and that's what Naruto felt like to his fingertips. Slowly but surely, Sasuke began to force a Chidori to form with his left arm—inefficiently and borderline painfully, he pushed chakra through the too-tight network to create a visual crackle of lightning. "I'd end you right now, Naruto, if I weren't so excited about doing it in front of the entire world..." Sasuke's voice was cold and full of venom. _Snap!_

"What the hell's the matter with you right now? I thought we were past all this crap, y'know!? _"_ Naruto focused on the firmness of Sasuke's grip around his glowing wrist, and just like Sasuke he also felt a rush of excitement. There was a real challenge presented, there—strong enough to make him wince, to make him worry, but in effect he was encouraged to stand his ground. He wanted to see what happened next. Naruto then saw the Chidori forming through the corner of his eye, and only when basking in its light did Sasuke's actual intentions click. " _Ohhhh_ ," Naruto breathed out under his voice with a growing smirk. He quickly squashed the excitement and turned it into a forcibly stern frown. "Why wait?" Naruto scathed, and his right hand began to form a perfect Rasengan in its palm, much more potent than the showy lump of energy in Sasuke's left. Naruto's arm had been given years to adapt to him, and he to it—he had all but forgotten that it was merely a replacement. As Sasuke's hand gripped Naruto's wrist, and Naruto's left hand gripped Sasuke's collar, the pair both pulled their signature ninjutsu techniques back behind themselves and began to howl with the intent to clash them together. They shoved their brightly-glowing ninjutsu toward one another...Genzo sensed that his life was almost over, but instinct compelled him to push the button: _Snap!_

And with all the suddenness of the flashing camera bulb, both Naruto and Sasuke's hands became empty once again, their ninjutsu vanishing at will. Their palms met in the vacant middle with an audible clap, fingers squeezing firmly around one another. Silence fell after a rush of quick wind. The moment's tension then melted slowly as Sasuke began to laugh in the silent aftermath, releasing Naruto's wrist, and subsequently being freed from the stern hold on his shirt. Genzo was still expecting to be blown away, but then when the laughter emerged and the two friends locked hands, he let instinct drive him one more time and took another subtle photo, this time without the flash; Naruto's golden aura provided plenty of ambient lighting. Sasuke's eyes reverted to black and Naruto's chakra dissipated from along his body as they both chuckled to each other, grinning shamelessly and locking eyes.

"It's been a long time since I've been this excited for a battle," Sasuke remarked toward Naruto, squeezing his friend's hand in a firm shake between them, bandage against bandage. "I really hope you don't disappoint me..."

"For a minute, I thought you were serious about doing it here," Naruto replied with a grateful chuckle of nervous relief. "I was about ready to knock your head off until I saw how weak your chakra flow was."

"It had to be convincing. All the better for the marketing team, right?" Sasuke looked over toward the camera with a sly smirk. "How's that for art, 'Master' Genzo?" The Uchiha had a charismatic mischief on his features, and the air of the night had warmed back up after the chill of confrontation finished sweeping through it.

Genzo came slowly and shakily out from behind his camera. His face was hued as a ghostly-white shade, emphasizing the pitted wrinkles on his face. "I, uh...I think that's probably enough for tonight..." He trailed his words off as if in shock, barely processing what almost happened. "Sasuke. Naruto. Thank you both for coming." He nodded to each of them with automatic stiffness, then turned to dismantle the tripod and pack up his camera. He was certainly relieved that there wasn't a massive explosion, but he couldn't quickly shake himself free of the adrenaline that came with the near-miss moment. The tournament was truly going to be exciting—Genzo only hoped that the Hokage wasn't overestimating his capability of keeping the village in one piece, especially if the two standing in that courtyard were to clash with any kind of seriousness in the arena.

"It's been my pleasure," Sasuke remarked with the last drop of his mischief, then gathered his things and slung his pack over his shoulder. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to get back to my personal business." Without waiting for an answer, Sasuke ducked down then abruptly hopped over and out of the carefully-arranged semicircle of trees, clearing the fence beyond to land on a nearby street, all with Naruto calling his name behind him. Outside of the studio's boundaries, the overhead lamps were alight with electrical buzzing and numerous moths and mosquitoes were swarming them; crickets were chirping in the dark, and Sasuke thought he heard an owl in the distance as well. Again, the village seemed normal on the surface, but as he looked around he saw it for its true condition. It was like he could feel the roads crumbling underfoot, smell the air becoming heavy and rusty; the buildings seemed to teeter toward collapse in his peripheral vision and his hands subconsciously clenched as if trying to save the village's loyal citizens from falling to certain death. He couldn't be everywhere at once, but he would certainly have liked to be. For all he knew, something terrible was happening just out of his reach...

Predictably, Naruto followed Sasuke out of the enclosure and landed beside him with a thunk of rubber against concrete immediately after the Uchiha thought he had escaped. The village's favorite hero was as loud as ever in the otherwise quiet streets. "Hey, don't you go runnin' off on me, Sasuke...you've avoided me long enough as it is!"

Sasuke scoffed, quickly answering with something that was very close to true. "I haven't been avoiding you...I just haven't had any reason to talk to you." He didn't turn to make eye contact; he hoped that the pest would go away, but he knew from experience that such a hope was futile. As Sasuke walked, he closed his eyes and relented enough to his curiosity to bite the baited hook after a moment of silence. "What do you want?"

The enthusiastic blonde was all too happy to start lecturing right off the bat: "I just...I get the impression that you don't really like being in the village." Naruto turned his bright blue eyes down to the sidewalk under his feet. "I get that you were just taunting me back there, but before that you really were going to destroy Grandpa Photographer's camera, weren't you?"

Sasuke had been caught in the act, like he knew he would be. No sense denying it, so he tried to downplay it: "I got angry, sure, but it's still in one piece." Sasuke tried to brush it off as nothing, but once again his rival's stubbornness won out against the mild deflection.

"Right, well I'm glad your arm froze up on you, otherwise you'd have been paying for the repairs y'know. My hand did the same thing for almost a week whenever I tried to move it too fast; the stiffness eventually goes away, and once it does you'll hardly notice the difference from the old one." Naruto looked at the back of his own hand, bandaged and hidden from sight but easily felt by all of his own nerves. After happily sharing his personal experience, he dove a bit deeper into it: "If you want people to like you around here, you're gonna have to lighten up about yourself. People are gonna want to see your eyes, since you're the only one left who's got anything like 'em. I know it makes you feel like a sideshow freak, and like your clan's being disrespected, but that's not on purpose. I guess you don't _have_ to show them, but the more they see of your eyes, the less they're gonna be scared of them, y'know? That's how it was with me and Kurama, too—they were all afraid of us until we proved what we stood for."

Sasuke listened to the throaty voice at his side and folded his arms across his chest. He didn't know where he was walking to, only that his feet insisted on moving forward. Naruto tagged along like a lost puppy waiting for some kind of profound answer, a breakthrough to prove his own effectiveness as a pep talker. When Sasuke answered, he wasn't exactly optimistic: "They think they've already seen what I stand for. I've shown them for years what I think is important, and it's not the village. It's always been about my personal vengeance; restoring my Clan's honor. Konoha is just the unfortunate bystander to it all, and they know it. Besides, maybe I _want_ them to be afraid of me."

"C'mon, Sasuke, we both know that's not true! You're here for a reason, otherwise you would've left as soon as you upheld your promise to Sakura. You didn't leave, though—you're staying because you want to stay, and I'm glad even though I don't know why you're doing it. Still, you could stand to be a little more grateful of the fact that all your crimes were forgiven."

Again, the dark-haired victim of photography sucked air through his nose and blew it gently out through his mouth. "Forgiven by whom? You? Kakashi? The other village heads? They don't speak for everyone. It's different when you go door to door—you weren't there to see the way Yoshino Nara looked at me."

Naruto scratched his cheek idly, calling up his memory. The name struck quick recognition. "Oh, you mean Shikamaru's mom? What about her?"

"Through her, I've seen what the village really thinks of me, Naruto—I saw it permanently tattooed on her face." Sasuke hadn't forgotten the disgust in the older woman's eyes when she answered the door and saw him standing there. Shikamaru had come to the 'rescue,' but not before the damage was done. Sasuke had pretended not to care at the time, feigned disinterest, but the truth of it was in that sad, tired woman's glare: She blamed him for everything that Madara had done. She blamed him because he was the only Uchiha left to shoulder the burden of the family name. No amount of Hinata's encouraging smile could completely erase the genuine guilt. "The Uchiha name has suffered because of our history, no matter what Itachi once intended. In fulfilling the orders given to him, Itachi hoped to spare the Clan's reputation—to spare me, too, not only from death, butfrom the shame of the clan's intended betrayal. It seems like his efforts didn't matter; the people of this world have long since forgotten about Mikoto and Fugaku Uchiha. They only remember Madara, Obito, Itachi...and me. The four of us are the monsters of the family tree, yet we're the ones who represent the Uchiha to the current generation..." Sasuke's feet stopped walking underneath the warm light of an overhead street bulb. He looked directly up into the bright yellow orb, recalling the flash of the camera. "Even if they accept me someday, Naruto, there will be doubt in their souls. They might smile as I pass, but in the back of their minds there will always be the same question: 'When is he going to snap again—when will Naruto finally have to kill him?' Because of my past, I'm always going to be treated like a volcano, like I'm ready to burst at any moment. I'm just an Uchiha time bomb."

Naruto blinked three times then hummed after an eerie silence, processing everything but having already tossed it aside in his head. "You're pretty pessimistic, y'know."

Despite the sadness, Sasuke broke a smile and shook his head dismissively. He looked at the blonde adult who still acted like a kid and then sighed. "I'm surprised you even know that word, Naruto."

A petulant scowl carved itself into Naruto's face; his voice was as defensive as could be. "I'm smarter than you think, now. I've been studying a lot these past few years, and Sakura's been helping me, too. She's still the smartest member of our class when it comes to books, y'know! When I become Hokage, it's all going to be thanks to her and Kakashi-sensei's help."

Sasuke felt a familiar tinge of jealousy, and though it was just a hint, it was enough to remind him of his regrets. "You and Sakura have been taking good care of each other, hmm?" He looked down to the fine golden band that was wrapped around the base of Naruto's bandaged ring finger. "Look, Naruto...the truth is that you're a living reminder of all my past mistakes. It's difficult to look you in the eye and pretend everything is going to be alright, because the reflection I see in your pupils are windows to my past. You've been there to witness all of my lowest moments, and because of that...whenever I see you looking at me, I feel guilty. It's hard for me to believe that everything is going to be alright with that constant reminder in front of me." Sasuke huffed. "Maybe I have been avoiding you after all."

Orange-padded shoulders shrugged as if responding to a question about ramen. "Everything _will_ be alright, though. You're the only one here who keeps saying otherwise. You should look on the bright side more often. Sure, you've done some bad things, but you've got all kinds of fans in the village, whether you admit it or not." Naruto put on a guilty, broad grin, then rubbed the back of his head. "Maybe not as many as me, but that's just because I smile so much, haha!"

The laughter loosened Sasuke up a bit, but he fought hard to hold onto his rotten mood. "If I have fans, then they're probably on the wrong side of the fight." Sasuke's left fist tightened, relaxed, then tightened again. Baby steps toward getting completely used to it. "I want to know your opinion, Naruto. What do you think we should do about the people within the village who wear our headbands, protect our people, and contribute to our growth...yet want to see your notions of peace thrown aside in favor of warfare that will make us 'stronger?' Do you think that your usual method will be enough to handle that?"

Naruto's face turned quickly serious again, and his hand clenched a thick ball of his own bright hair in thought. The blonde mess was still growing out from the day of his wedding, becoming almost as long as it used to be. "The whole idea makes me angrier than anything, Sasuke. How can there be people who want war instead of peace? Even Madara wanted peace in the end. I mean...what's the point of being alive if there's always going to be conflict? If we never find peace, won't we all eventually die fighting each other?"

Sasuke shut his eyes and stepped aside, leaving the light of the streetlamp and leaning his back against a fence post in the dark. "I saw it for myself, Naruto—there are people here who think they only have one purpose in life. They were bred and raised to become specialized soldiers; that's what the word shinobi meant to Danzo Shimura. It wasn't about protecting Konoha—it was about winning the next battle, about taking from the weak in order to nourish the strong."

"Danzo's been dead for years, though, right?" Naruto looked at Sasuke in the darkness and saw the memory playing in front of himself. He knew for certain that the lifeless body on the bridge had belonged to Danzo, and he had also seen that Sai's restrictive speech curse had been lifted from his tongue. There was no doubt that Danzo was long gone, dead since before the fourth war began. "Since he's gone, what's the point of talking about him?"

"He may be gone, but his ideals aren't. Just like the Third Hokage, and the First before him, there's an enduring legacy that survives within those who cherish a person's teachings. The Will of Fire has a counterpart, and that's what Danzo's remnants wield. However flawed we think they are, however futile their efforts may seem, we can rest assured that they're thinking the exact same way about us. They don't feel anything with their hearts—their hearts have been shut down by Danzo's manipulation. So I ask you again, Naruto—how would you deal with them?"

It didn't take long for an answer to rise: "If I got through to Sai, I can get through to an army of people like him, too!" Naruto's hands punched together in front of his chest, and he had the typical confidence on his face. For a moment, Sasuke allowed himself to feel encouraged; maybe that was good enough.

"Mm...maybe all it takes is a good thump on the head to get any one of them to reconsider." After briefly entertaining the thought, Sasuke shook his head and sighed, standing up off of his chosen fence post. It wasn't going to be that easy, but he had as much of a right as anybody else to be optimistic, right? "Tell Kakashi that I'm not going to change the way I've been doing things. If something important comes up, I'll report it to him...but until then, I'm going to act on my own authority."

Naruto stayed in the light, but turned his head down and huffed. "That's why people are going to keep being afraid of you, Sasuke. If you don't play by the same rules as everyone else, it looks suspicious."

Sasuke delighted in the irony. "You didn't become a hero by following the rules, Naruto. You're a hero to everyone, including me, because you refused to do what you were told."

Naruto put his hand on his forehead protector and rubbed it as if to draw strength from its shining metal. "This is different, and you know it. You're running around at night beating up citizens of Konoha! Whether they deserve it or not, it's got people scared of some kind of phantom, y'know? Kakashi-sensei has been telling me all about it, plus I've heard some whispers. C'mon, Sasuke, stop sneaking around without telling anyone what you're doing. You need to step into the light if you want to be something other than a nightmare. "

"There are people far worse than me who are sneaking around in the night, Naruto. Besides, the way I've been hearing it, I'm supposed to play the villain. Shouldn't people be afraid of the villain?" Sasuke closed and then opened his eyes, the irises glowing red in the dark as he looked directly at Naruto. "Since that's what they need me to be, I'll play along."

"That's what think they want, not what they really need. Forget the marketing plan, wouldn't it be just as exciting for us to fight as old friends and rivals?" Naruto had a look of smirking determination. "And I'm not asking you to stop protecting the village, Sasuke—you're doing a really great thing for all of us. I just want you to do it officially, not as some wannabe superhero."

Sasuke tsked and flexed his brow. "As nice as that would be, I know that Kakashi put you up to saying it. He doesn't want me ruining our reputation with the other villages by acting unchecked while we've got visitors, right? The way it must look, politically, is that I'm just one misguided punch away from starting another war. Isn't that the way it is? Whether I'm acting officially or not, Kakashi is responsible for my actions because of the way he vouched for me after the war. I don't want to cause trouble for him, but I don't want to be his lapdog, either."

"Do you really think Kakashi-sensei would treat you like a lapdog?" Naruto frowned.

Sasuke gave Naruto a skeptical look. "He's already treating _you_ like his personal errand boy."

Naruto was momentarily flustered, growling in his throat once he caught new resolve. He raised a fist to prove his seriousness. "Wait a second, I'm not here just because Kakashi-sensei asked me to be!" Naruto sighed and rubbed his hair again, grumbling. "It's just...you're my friend, and I've missed you, y'know? I haven't seen you since we had dinner, but even then you seemed really distracted."

Sasuke remembered the dinner and he blushed in the dark at the thought of how things had changed since then. He recalled the timidness in his gut when he looked at Hinata, then contrasted it with the way she made him feel just hours earlier. It wasn't nervousness anymore—it was a compulsion. "I _have_ been distracted." He thought for a second, then spoke more quietly. "By several things."

Naruto nodded his head. "I could tell." He bit his inner lip during another lengthy silence. Time for one of the main points: "Hey, let me talk seriously for a second..." Naruto walked out of the light and into the shadow, then laid a hand on Sasuke's shoulder without permission. Seeing as how he wasn't knocked onto his back in response, he spoke to the point before his welcome was worn out: "I didn't mean to make you miserable by marrying Sakura. I did it because I love her, and I know she loves me, too. That's all there is to it."

Sasuke's eyebrows furrowed slightly. He had convinced himself that he was 'over' Sakura, and in large parts he was, but hearing Naruto's emotions spilling out in those words tugged at the avenger's heartstrings. He shut his eyes and held back the glistening moisture. It still hurt, but it was a sweetly shrinking pain that only needed to express itself through one final moment of agony before it could be snuffed out entirely. When Sasuke spoke, it was with mild mockery. "That's a pretty mature thing for you to say, Naruto. Did Kakashi feed you that line?"

Naruto tensed his face. "I'm being serious here. I don't want her to be the reason we finally get pushed apart forever; I know she doesn't want that, either. Can we just agree to move past it?"

Sasuke actually began to smile as he thought of the past few days. Hinata flooded his thoughts and filled his eyes with her beautiful simplicity. As he first saw her in the moonlight at Naruto's wedding, Sasuke thought the girl was ethereal, impossible to comprehend—but then he saw her face, heard her sorrow, and touched her tears. She was as real and as fragile as any other human, but he couldn't see her that way because of what she did to him. He was confused, unable to wrestle with his own heart. He was being pulled toward her by some latent instinct, some connection that bound the two of them at the roots as soon as they shared in one another's pain. It always came back to pain; Sasuke's life was defined by it, and his choices were often guided by how much relief he could secure for himself. And then he felt Hinata's pain—her physical agony after being hurt by a traitor named Shell. A traitor whom Sasuke regretted leaving alive whenever he pictured Hinata's bloody, bruised face. The pain didn't stop her from looking at Sasuke like he was her savior, her dependable guardian. In that moment atop the cliffside when their lips first met, he became her guardian. Her mentor. Her master. _Hers_.

And so Sasuke had agreed, in that singular moment, to move past Sakura well before Naruto made the proposition. He spoke his answer without reluctance. "I've already gotten past that pain, Naruto. I'm in a different place now."

Naruto blinked, then hesitantly took his hand off Sasuke's shoulder. He had been expecting more resistance and wasn't sure how to process the simple and honest answer. "O-oh, uh...that was kinda easy." He took an awkward step back and tucked his hand into one of his pants pockets. "I guess I've been worried for nothing, huh?"

Sasuke smirked at the question. "You don't have to worry about me anymore, Naruto. Neither does Kakashi; I won't let either of you down again. I just want you both to trust me when I ask you to let me deal with things in my own way."

Naruto nodded once, then hummed with affirmation. "Yep, Kakashi-sensei knew you'd say that. And he told me that when you said that, I should say this..." Naruto produced a small slip of paper from the pocket he had buried his hand into. He unfolded it, and upon the yellowed surface was Kakashi's distinctive handwriting. "Ahem...I'm not saying that I don't trust you, Sasuke." Naruto looked up from the paper as if following stage directions, then nodded woodenly. "As proof, Sai has already been given permission to work under your orders, with the exception that my—erm, I mean Kakashi-sensei's—orders can directly overrule yours. Consider it a peace offering. We, as a village, want to openly cooperate with you; accept the job that has been offered to you so that we can collaborate more comprehensively."

Sasuke rolled his eyes. It was just another way to word what he had already been told. "I appreciate the sentiment, but it's asking a lot of me. Unless you're going to arrest me for behaving on my own terms, I don't see any reason to change my methods."

Naruto folded the paper back up and stuffed it uselessly into his pocket. "Then don't change your methods, Sasuke...just let us help you. Kakashi-sensei thinks you're doing great, but he doesn't want you keeping secrets from him."

"It's important to keep secrets. For all we know, Kakashi is one of the traitors, Naruto." Sasuke was openly and obviously testing Naruto for a reaction.

Anger showed in blue eyes, as predicted. "How can you say that!? You should know better than anybody that Kakashi-sensei would never betray us!"

As he was yelled at, Sasuke sighed and shook his head while Naruto looked ready to pounce in a fit of rage. "This is why I don't want you to get involved...because that's exactly the attitude that we can't afford to have right now. You trust people, Naruto. And when you trust someone, you let them walk all over you. We can't afford to let something as naïve as trust get in the way of our judgement."

"Call me naïve all you want, but I know that none of our friends would ever play along with people who want to hurt Konoha..." Naruto was certain of it. He knew the villagers well; he surely would have known if any of them were up to no good.

Sasuke saw that certainty in Naruto's expression, and it caused another sigh to come out. "That's exactly my point." He turned his back to Naruto and started to walk. There was no need to argue it out any longer. "I'll see you around; don't follow me this time." Then, with more than just raw speed, Sasuke flickered out of sight. He was gone, leaving Naruto to grumble about feeling left out.

* * *

Sasuke had other things to worry about. It wasn't so much that he distrusted Hanabi's ability to look out for her sister, rather it came back to Hiashi's famed ruthlessness—he fully expected to find Hinata cast out on the streets in front of the Hyuuga district, weeping and clutching some torn certificate of legitimacy. Could she really have been cast out of the clan for her 'treachery'? Sasuke hoped not, but until he saw for himself, he could never be sure. Further along his list of concerns was the late hour—the photo shoot had lasted longer than he expected, and Naruto's pestering held him up even further. Fortunately, Sasuke hadn't been followed by the annoying persistence of his counterpart. He enjoyed the quiet as he perched himself on a tree not far from the borders of the Hyuuga manor. He was outside of their territory, and he was looking across the roofs of each segment as if trying to find signs of a terrible battle. From his angle, he couldn't spot any damage, but he had no idea where Hiashi's quarters even were. The makeup of the abode was completely mysterious to him, basing all his knowledge on minor things that Hinata had told him during training. That is to say, not very much at all.

From his concealment, Sasuke saw a sparse few people with milky eyes roaming around the flower gardens, but none of them were her. He heard a handful of whispered conversations about nothing in particular, and he kept his senses open to any and all clues. Nobody was mentioning Hinata by name, which was either a very good thing or a very bad thing. Moments passed and he continued to tempt himself with the idea of infiltrating further, but if the situation did happen to be delicate, he did not want to agitate things with his presence. Although he could generally move quickly enough to avoid detection even by the Byakugan, as soon as he stopped moving that advantage would disappear. He wasn't worried for himself, of course—he was confident that he could easily escape the clumsy grasp of a few Hyuuga groundskeepers—but he pondered what might happen to Hinata if he were to go snooping on the wrong places, and it somehow came back to her. Perhaps by way of Hanabi's big mouth.

So despite his impulses, Sasuke crouched patiently behind leaves and kept his chakra suppressed to avoid detection. For one, because he didn't want to be a glowing beacon for the Byakugan itself, and for two because he didn't want Naruto to find him again either. It was bad enough being forced to deal with him as some sort of ambush, but with so much on his mind he couldn't also juggle more needling from his comrade. "You're a good person, Naruto, but sometimes you make things difficult," he found himself muttering aloud to combat his boredom. Boredom was another good sign, though. Boredom meant that nothing was happening, and when nothing was happening there was nothing _bad_ happening. Lights were turning on and off around the village, and voices were clamoring at different volumes, but the largest part of the atmosphere was calm. Eerily calm, perhaps, but calm was good enough for Sasuke.

Then he saw her—hunched and a little battered with one arm hanging limp, but with a smile on her face and quick breaths coming through her nose. She stepped out into view on sloppy footing, but she did not fall. She looked from left to right as if trying to find somebody in particular, then almost immediately turned her eyes up toward Sasuke's place in the tree and waved her good arm from one side to the other overhead. She was excited to see him—so excited that she forgot to be subtle, apparently. Sasuke grinned in the shadows and looked down to her with a subdued wave of his own hand. Hinata was safe, though hurt...and her smile implied good things, good enough to offset whatever harm had come to her. Her spirit was one of her most admirable features, and it wasn't the first time Sasuke had seen her smiling straight through a discolored bruise.

Hinata looked almost like a speck when she ran to the iron gate that separated her family from the rest of the village, but she didn't try to heave it open. Instead, she nimbly leaped over its protection and landed shakily on the other side. She was used to being wobbly, though, so she didn't fall. She started to run toward the base of Sasuke's tree, but then before she could blink she found herself in the high branches with her arm outstretched and her mouth falling open. That was when she stumbled, having not expected the quick relocation, but when she did fall, she fell right into Sasuke's open arms, her head hitting his chest like he was a collapsing pillow. She melted into his hold and sighed a pathetic little sigh, feeling the comfort more than the confusion and letting her eyes drift closed. "Oh, I can feel you, Sasuke," she hummed to herself and smiled. It was the best kind of surprise. "I didn't know you could do that," she whispered a bit more alert, speaking of the way she was summoned onto his hidden branch.

Rather than explain the power of his Rinnegan, he addressed his primary concern: "What's wrong with your arm?" Sasuke quietly brought his hand to her shoulder, feeling around for signs of injury. He could feel the swollen joint between his skilled fingers, and he kept his needling pressure light so as to avoid causing discomfort. "Your father did this, didn't he?" A hint of anger; the slightest raise in temperature along Sasuke's neckline. Hinata felt it and she opened lazy eyes to look up at him.

"Yes, but it's my fault...I challenged him before I was ready, and he hit me harder than I could handle." She had a guilty smile on her face, sporting prettiness that was barely offset by some little cuts around her lips made when she was sent careening into a wall at full speed. "He showed me the gap between our powers, but...he admitted that I've gotten too strong for the Beginner Tier." She smiled more widely and brought her good hand up to the side of Sasuke's cheek, rubbing his upper jawbone with the tips of her fingers. "I've got his blessing to compete in the same group as Hanabi...isn't that fantastic?" She snuggled further into Sasuke's chest and positioned herself to where she was seated sideways across his crossed legs. Her feet played along the uneven wood of the sturdy branch while her knees nestled against Sasuke's folded calves.

The news was enough to excite Sasuke, forcing his lips to split into a toothy grin as he squeezed one of Hinata's hands. "It's very fantastic...and it's surprising, too," Sasuke admitted with wide-open eyes. Good news, but unexpected. "Your father always struck me as a lot more stubborn than that...how badly did you need to hurt him before he reconsidered?"

Hinata shrugged her one working shoulder, leaving her hand near Sasuke's cheek. He would surely have noticed the scrapes and cuts across her palm and fingertips as a result of grabbing her father's chakra with a bare hand, but it must not have been bad enough to warrant a comment. "I didn't do much...but maybe all it took to convince him was a bit of courage? I have you to thank for giving it to me. I never would have done any of this without your encouragement, Sasuke." She seemed tired; a bit vacant. "I've been hoping you'd come by ever since...I was almost asleep when I saw you out here, but I couldn't resist saying hi."

With both arms slipping around to lock Hinata's upper body, and his legs folded in a way to support her languid posture, Sasuke was satisfied with the night. "I had to come. I was worried about what might have happened to you. There aren't many stories about your father that end in mercy."

"Mm, well he's not an evil man...he's sometimes cruel, but he does it all for the sake of the clan. It's like you said a couple of weeks ago, Sasuke, and I should have believed you—he entered me in the lower tier because he knew I'd win; he did it so that the family name would register at least one championship." She lowered her hand and started rubbing Sasuke's chest, pursing her lips with a sort of guilt. He felt so solid against her wounded fingers, and every part of her soft body that was squeezed by his arms felt like it was melting around him. She shivered with enjoyment and wanted to stay there all night. "He changed his mind, though...now he says that it'd be shameful to put me down there because it would be too easy. He thinks that between Hanabi and I, one of us is guaranteed to win the title."

"I think he's right about that," Sasuke remarked softly. His faith was with Hinata. Hanabi was a strong contender as well, but without saying it aloud, Sasuke knew who the toughest competitor would be to beat: Sakura Haruno, the apprentice of the Fifth Hokage, Lady Tsunade, and probably Naruto Uzumaki's number one student as well. "It's going to be an interesting competition, either way...do you know when the full schedule will be released? I'd like to know who your first opponent will be as soon as possible."

Hinata giggled with reserved excitement. "I want to know, too...fighting my father felt good, even though it also hurt. I want another match just like that one." She peered to the top of her own left shoulder, where Sasuke's nose had fallen to and begun to nuzzle with tender affection. It was as if he were trying to nurse her back to health with a soft caress. "I lost movement in my arm after my father hit me with two good strikes. It's already starting to tingle with feeling again, but I can't move it quite yet." She looked down at Sasuke's recently-replaced left arm, smiling with a feeling of sympathy. "I can't imagine living without one for as long as you did, though...it was hard enough just trying to brush my hair a little while ago."

"It's something you can get used to," Sasuke answered into her fluffy white shirt. "Even so, I wouldn't wish it on anybody. Knowing that I took Naruto's arm has always been a source of guilt."

"He forgave you a long time ago," Hinata whispered, keeping quiet since she could hear the soft mumblings of her extended family in the nearby compound. "Why can't you forgive yourself?"

"Have you ever hurt somebody you loved, Hinata? Badly enough to leave a scar?" Sasuke looked down to Hinata's face and cupped his hand beneath her chin. He started gingerly rubbing her cheek with his thumb. "It's not something you can just forgive yourself for. It stays with you."

"I guess I haven't done that, no," the tired young woman replied with a soft frown. As always, she leaned her skin into Sasuke's grip, admiring the stiffness of it while still appreciating the malleability of his fingers. "I usually hold back when I'm fighting someone I care about." She felt Sasuke's real hand under her chin, but her attention was brought back to the bandages indicating the other. "You and Naruto...it was a really serious fight, wasn't it?"

Sasuke nodded once, but was silent otherwise. His new arm went to Hinata's upper back, clutching her close and holding her to his chest. He was leaning against the body of the tree, seated comfortably in its nook. The branch was wide enough to support him three times over, but still he felt the need to keep her near, to prevent her from slipping away.

"You always talk about how thankful you are that he saved you from yourself, but before that...did you hate him, Sasuke? Did you sincerely want to kill Naruto?" Hinata was jittery as she asked. She knew the answer but wanted once again to hear him say it.

He smirked at the fierceness of his memories, but he knew that they no longer had any power over him. "I wanted to kill a _lot_ of people, Hinata...but Naruto was the one I wanted to bury the most. If you were to ask me why, I wouldn't really have a good answer. It's something of a haze, but I remember one thought that constantly hammered at my skull—Naruto was the only friend who always believed that I could come home. There was a point where both Kakashi and Sakura had given up on me, but not Naruto. Never Naruto. So long as he was there with his hand outstretched, I knew I could never fall completely into the darkness, because no matter how much I kicked and screamed he would pull me back out."

Hinata frowned again. She should have stopped asking that kind of question, but her curiosity always got the better of her when she had Sasuke all to herself like that. "But why did you want to keep falling to the darkness, Sasuke? You were a kid who wanted to protect Konoha, and your friends and family too. I know that your brother did a terrible thing, and you wanted revenge...but after that, after he died, why didn't you come home? Why did you keep fighting?"

Sasuke once again avoided telling her about his brother. Itachi was the reason for his lowest moments; he never obtained the vengeance he thought he wanted. It was still there in his spirit, wanting to escape. He sometimes had to choke it back down, and such was his response to the current question. "I fought against something I disagreed with; beyond that, there's not much I want to say."

Hinata easily sensed that something was being hidden from her, but once again she didn't pressure him. He would tell her some day, so long as they stayed friends. Or...whatever it was that they were. "It's alright," Hinata reassured, touching her lips to the front of Sasuke's chin. His face stayed smooth all the time, whether it was because he was naturally unable to grow stubble or because he kept himself perfectly shaved, she didn't know. "I worry about Hanabi, sometimes. She's too willing to obey Father's wishes."

Sasuke was happy to shift subjects; the temptation to confess his entire clan's history was getting heavy. Hanabi was a much easier subject to tackle. "She's just being the good daughter your father wants her to be," he suggested. "I wouldn't worry too much about her. Whenever I talk to her, she seems to have a good sense of individuality."

Hinata's brow furrowed. "Right...but when she's around him, she's different. It's like she wants to speak her mind, but she can't."

"Did that happen tonight?" Sasuke wondered to her.

"Yes. I could see by the way she frowned that she didn't want to fight me, but Father insisted. She was going to attack me without questioning it if he gave her one more push." Hinata tucked her head under Sasuke's chin, feeling safer there than she ever felt in her own bed. She exhaled until her lungs were empty, then she drew a deep breath of Sasuke's scent. It was the end of a long day; there was a bit of musk and sweat, but it was all him and she basked in it. "Maybe you're right, though. She's smart; she won't become someone who she doesn't want to be."

 _I used to think the same thing about myself_ , Sasuke thought. Aloud, he said something different: "In any case, it's up to her. Just be there for her when she needs you, and everything will be fine."

Hinata nodded. "I will be," she said as if in silent promise to her sister. From her perch in the tree with Sasuke, she could see the curtained window of her own room, and beyond that she could see the rear corner of the main house that concealed Hiashi's training dojo. "How did the pictures turn out?" She asked Sasuke with a growing smile. "I'll bet you looked terrific."

Sasuke shared her smile and peered down at her, flicking around thin locks of her deep blue hair with his thumb as he traced her forehead. "I didn't stay long enough to see them developed. I was more concerned about finding you."

Hinata was starting to feel her lifeless arm again, and with a mighty struggle she willed the floppy limb to drape across Sasuke's waist, wrapping around his lower back with all the strength of wet paper. "I'm glad you came for me again. It makes me happy knowing that someone's watching over me." She hid her face against his neck and blushed with a full smile. "And I'm especially happy knowing that it's you."

Sasuke let that moment sink in, petting soft hair with his natural fingers and rubbing along Hinata's back and shoulders with the others. He didn't say anything else, preferring to let her most recent words echo in his mind infinitely. The stars were bright and plentiful that night, and the trees were satisfyingly green in the white light. It was far from the tallest tree in the village, but Sasuke felt elevated above all others. He knew that it was Hinata who made him feel that way, and so he didn't let go of her.

* * *

 **Thanks for reading, I hope you liked it! Thank you as well for all the kind words about the previous chapter. I appreciate all the support and commentary. Quick reminder: if you've got a question, send me a PM or leave a signed review. I can't answer guests directly, but I see guests asking all sorts of questions! I'd rather not make a huge Q &A at the end of every chapter, so if you want an answer, make sure to leave a signed review. (When I say signed, I mean that you need to post it with a registered account.)**

 **Anyway, thanks again for reading and I'll see you next time.**


	41. Kiba's Resolve

**Fair warning: This is a Kiba chapter. Enjoy!**

* * *

Kiba had run a long way in his anger. What started as a walk to let off steam became a spiral of negative thoughts, and all of them came focused back onto Sasuke Uchiha. Why did that monster survive the war after so many good people gave their lives? How did such a demon become a member of Konoha again, even after he had done so many terrible things? The thoughts always came up in Kiba's head when he was angry, and the anger helped him focus on his training. He repeatedly shouted into the night, _"Damn you, Sasuke!"_ as if it were a key, some password to unlock his inner power. Akamaru had been left behind with Shino and Mirai; it was only Kiba in the snowy lower woods. Snow was odd for that time of year, but there had been numerous weather anomalies that had come and gone in the wake of the Juubi's brief revival. It was as if nature was still trying to find its balance after a violent upheaval. And so Kiba's feet made hundreds of prints into gently-piling white powder, proving the length and intensity of his self-imposed training regimen. His breaths were heavy and his eyes were sharp as he assaulted tree and stone alike in a broad circle. The air was cold and silent, but Kiba was a fiery bundle of rage to contrast it.

Hinata, the girl he had fought alongside for years, the one who was also the first girl he noticed to become a woman, was putting trust in Sasuke. Too much trust. Kiba lashed his clawed hand toward the body of yet another thick-barked tree, striking it with a vicious crack and sending splinters of dark wood in every direction. He closed his eyes when the shrapnel struck his face, but he did not cower away. The slight pain of sharpness was nothing compared to the relief he felt as he destroyed the solid trunk. The snow around him was peppered with the same fragments of a dozen other shattered trees; his bare hands were powerful weapons, and he had honed them to be that way for years. He saw Sasuke's face on every pillar of lumber before he obliterated it. He struck the same tree a second time with a growl of furious intent, and when his bloody, worn claws touched the thick core it gave way in another messy splatter. Deeply groaning, the high tower of wood leaned gently to the left, slowly but surely losing its balance as its support was ripped away from underneath. Though it toppled, it did not reach the ground; it nestled between the thick branches of another nearby spire of oak. Even so, the movement of the treetops did open a small window to the sky. Despite the brightness of the twinkling stars, Kiba was far too distracted by his anger to notice that there were no clouds from which the snowflakes were falling.

Another ferocious lunge, another explosion of wooden fractals, another scrape of claw, knuckle, and fingertip against prickly remnants of once-proud fixtures of tranquil nature. No tranquility could survive in the wake of the notorious temper of the Inuzuka Clan. Every impact throbbed against the young man's muscles and flexed his bones to test their strength. He was sturdy and strong, but he knew that it wasn't enough yet. If he wanted to prove himself, he would need to be stronger than ever. Though he was determined beyond himself, Kiba eventually slowed down his assault on nature when he felt his lungs filling with freezing air during every labored pant. He hadn't dressed warmly enough for the deepening chill, and he found himself cradling his arms against his chest and huddling over slightly to warm himself. "D-damn," he chattered through his teeth, beginning to see his own breath in thick clouds in front of his face. "H-how'd it get so cold around here?" He looked from side to side, as if he would be rewarded with an answer to his question by the empty woods. The birds had gone, and the insects as well—the snow had scared the wildlife away, but Kiba wondered if their retreat was futile. When it snowed in one place, it snowed everywhere, right?

He tried to look off in the direction of the village, but he couldn't see it through the thick trees and the sloped hills he had slid down along his way. The world was entirely silent; not even his special ears, fine-tuned like a canine's, could detect a hint of sound aside from the gentle, crisp tap of tiny glistening flakes stacking three inches high. Before he knew it, the snow was built up to his ankles. With a calm sigh, Kiba stood up tall and stopped thinking about the chill. "It's about time I got back to the village, anyway," he told himself, though he still had anger to burn before he was ready to face his team again. He knew he had acted pettily, but he didn't care; he certainly didn't regret what he said about Sasuke. Still, there was no reason to go back angry to make things even worse. Hinata had seemed pretty upset, and Kiba didn't like to see her that way. He wanted things to go back to how they were before Sasuke came back—and even before Naruto chose Sakura. That was when the trouble really began for poor Hinata, and for Kiba as well by proxy.

He began to walk, with crunching snow touching his exposed toes and making him shiver even more. The white sheets had covered up his former tracks and scent, but he knew his way around the woods well enough to follow a general direction. However, he only made it three steps into his journey before he caught sight of a black-robed figure in a plain white mask, fixated between two ominously broken trees—broken by Kiba himself, but no less intimidating as a frame for the odd presence. Short, slight, and unassuming, the figure was staring at Kiba through a blank mask with a steady posture. Though Kiba's breath was condensed and visible in the cold, the stranger's was not. What was even more alarming to Kiba was this: _There's not even the slightest hint...why can't I smell him?_

The figure raised both arms in a disarming kind of way and took a few steps out of the trees' coverage. From head to toe there was blackness covering the flesh, save for the plain white, thickly porcelain mask that shielded the face. A well-fitted hood stayed close to the shape of the person's small head, keeping hair and ears hidden well. Even the traditionally open-toed sandals of a shinobi were closed upon this person, giving no hint as to the complexion or physical nature of the guest. When she spoke, she was proven to be female: "I was wondering when you might notice me, Kiba Inuzuka," she teased with an airy confidence, tip-toeing along the snow and leaving no footprints in her wake.

Kiba looked guarded, his brows flexed and his fangs bared as if ready for a fight. "Who the hell are you?" His fist was clenched at his side. Maybe he would have a chance to work off some more steam.

"I'm a friend," she started, but then she stopped walking and took a hand to her chin beneath her mask, pondering. "No, maybe not. Rather, I'm sympathetic to your problem."

"Problem?" Kiba barked, deepening his stance every time the stranger grew closer. No matter how near she came, his sharp nose could not detect a single fleck of an aroma coming off of her. Not even the scent of her cloth or leather reached him. "My only problem right now is you." He took up his usual arrogant tone and turned his guarded frown into a ready smirk.

"Is that right?" The woman cooed skeptically, turning her head slowly and dramatically to behold the swaths of ruined trees all around her. "You don't have to lie to me, little Kiba; I've been watching for longer than you think. Did you know that you have a habit of talking to yourself while you train?" She turned her back to him and raised her arms and shoulders in an obvious shrug. "I couldn't help but overhear your rantings..."

Kiba didn't let the suggestion phase him, and instead he took a step closer. Unlike his odd guest, he left prints in the snow. "I'd really like you to get to the point, because as I see it right now you're just an intruder in Konoha territory."

The shrouded figure relaxed her shoulders and folded her arms along her waist, canting her masked-and-hooded head to look behind her and see Kiba's determination. "Calm down; I work for Konoha as well. My companions and I serve her _true_ interests, even while your friends mill about and pretend that the world can be at peace." She scoffed with sardonic laughter, her voice ringing clear despite the closure of her mask. "You're different, though. I think you know better than them; you know that there are threats in this village that must be dealt with for everyone's sake."

At the mention of threats, Kiba thought back to Hinata's explanation of her injuries a few days earlier. She had blamed one of the Hokage's guards, but the hotheaded Inuzuka couldn't shake the suspicion that she was covering for Sasuke. His face didn't give away his conflicted thoughts; he answered sternly: "Naruto can handle anything that comes our way...nobody'd dare start a war with him around." It was true. He knew that Naruto was powerful enough to deter any kind of full-scale military operation...but what about the person in front of him? With neither sound nor scent to give her away, Kiba was chilled by more than just the air when he thought about the things she could accomplish as a lone intruder.

The girl of indeterminate age turned around on a heel and faced Kiba again, still several paces away but drawing closer with every movement. Her turns and tilts were graceful, weaving between the individual flakes of falling snow as if they obeyed her command. And perhaps they did. "There is one particular threat that I have in mind...and I'm coming to you here and now because you know its name. It's already on the tip of your tongue."

Kiba took a moment of pause, thinking it through before growling to himself. "Sasuke," he murmured under his breath. "You're talking about Sasuke."

A silent nod, then a twirl of a gloved hand to draw some nonsensical shape in the air with a dainty fingertip. "Sasuke Uchiha is dangerous. Too dangerous for Naruto by himself to handle." She clutched a flake of snow between her thumb and pointer finger, thumbing it as if she were memorizing the tiny shape. "Naruto is the poster child for world peace, but his naivete makes him _startlingly_ weak."

"What are you talking about?" Kiba asked with no patience. "And what does this have to do with me?"

"Have you ever wondered what might happen if Sasuke were to turn Naruto to his cause? The Five Kage don't think it's possible; even the Fire Daimyo is convinced that Naruto will forever be an unwavering ally...but his friendship with the Uchiha boy is powerful. Perhaps powerful enough to sway him to the other side of right and wrong, given the proper circumstance." Leathery black fingers crushed the snowflake that was captured, letting tiny specks flutter to the ground below. "It could happen in an instant. Nobody would be prepared. This village, this _world_ , gone within the space of a breath. All because its people were too blind to see the danger."

Kiba scoffed, snarling and keeping himself ready for combat. "You definitely talk a lot, but you don't have much to say..." His fingers flexed, cracking anxious knuckles and warming frigid muscles. "If you really work for Konoha, then you're starting to sound like a traitor."

"Hmm, a traitor? To whom, exactly?" Another step forward without a print. She was almost close enough to be within arm's reach. "I serve the village itself. Not Naruto Uzumaki, and certainly not Sasuke Uchiha. The Hokage turns an ignorant eye to the threat they pose because they were once his students. Though Kakashi Hatake has pledged to protect the village, he inexplicably maintains a soft spot for two men who could flatten it on a whim."

Kiba clenched his fangs together, scraping them with an audible click. "I've heard enough of your crap. You might think I'm an idiot, but I know what's been going on in this village. Hinata didn't tell me everything, but she told me enough. You're one of _them_ , right? The ones who attacked her?"

A shake of a hooded head. "There has been a terrible misunderstanding, Kiba," The empty-voiced reply sounded well-rehearsed. "Hinata Hyuuga was not _attacked_ by our association. Rather, our soldiers were trying to save her from falling under a powerful influence...such a rescue could not be done publicly, else the villain might realize that we are onto its methods. Unfortunately, our execution was...flawed. The girl was stronger than we anticipated, and she struggled against our rescue attempt. "

Kiba's eyes twinkled with concrete suspicion. _She probably wasn't there; she must not know what actually happened._ "I hate to break it to you, but it's like I said: Hinata told me enough." He flexed again, loosening up. It was almost time. "You're right about one thing, though: I don't like Sasuke one bit...but I trust Hinata, whether it makes me an idiot or not, and she told me something interesting." He tilted his head to one side, cracking a joint in his neck. "Sasuke is the one who saved her from your 'associates'. Even though I hate him, I owe him one. No matter what I think, or what you say, Sasuke is a shinobi of Konoha until he proves otherwise. If there's a threat to the village's safety, it's what's standing right in front of me..." He took a moment to steady his breathing; the air was growing perpetually colder, further convincing Kiba that the woman was indeed the source of the odd weather. "So if you won't tell me who you are, I'll do the Hokage a favor and beat the truth out of you." He quickly launched from his powerful legs, soaring through the air with fangs bared and claws up. He swiped at her face with urgency, trying to catch her off guard.

It was no use; the nimble phantom ducked beneath his arm and stepped around him with precision, speaking casually from behind while her opponent faltered and turned around. "You're as stubborn as I expected," she said to him with a hint of boredom. A second lunge from Kiba; he had the sharp claws of his right arm aimed for her chest with a roar of aggression. He felt his wrist batted aside by the back of his opponent's hand, and the touch of her glove was freezing cold. He missed his mark but kept his momentum, and just before his shoulder would have collided with her, he felt the sole of a stiff boot at the front of his chest, crushing against his ribs and throwing him off with ease. After arcing through the air, he skidded flat on his back, leaving a thick trail in the snow that was as wide as his shoulders. He started coughing violently as he recovered from the blunt impact against his chest. He sprang up from the crater made by compacted snow and looked ready to attack a third time, but the woman had a single finger pointed up, which signaled him to wait. She spoke with a creamy, assuring sort of 'truth'. "I don't fault you for your loyalty to Konoha, Kiba Inuzuka...in fact, that's why I've come to you in the first place. You have a heightened sense of character; you can tell whether a person is righteous or not. Unfortunately, your flaw is that your only point of view comes from your masters, whether they be the Hokage, Naruto, or even that girl, Hinata. You're very much like a hound in that regard." Her face was hidden but she probably had a mocking smirk. "I'm proposing a different point of view—a different master."

Kiba shook his head wildly, knocking some loose flakes of snow out of his mussed hair and off of his shirt. The air was still growing colder against his thin clothes. He wondered how far the snow stretched—could he outrun the storm, perhaps regain some of his falling body temperature on its outskirts? He could feel that he was at a disadvantage that grew steeper with every second that he was slowed by the atmosphere. She had been wearing him down with the cold since long before she made herself known, but he had been too consumed by fury to pay that fact any attention until it was too late. "A different master...? There's your mistake...I'm loyal, you're right about that...way too loyal to listen to this kind of trash!" He could feel his insides growing somewhat numb with every breath. Was it time to run? No, surely she would be able to chase him down in the slippery snow. It was best not to turn his back to her. "What makes you think I'd ever take you seriously?"

She answered in the stillness with a whisper that was easily heard. "Because you know that Sasuke might be corrupting _her_." Though the strange woman didn't know the full details of the encounter with Shell, she had heard enough about Sasuke to spin the story in a more convincing light. "You're a shinobi of this village, and a part of Sasuke's generation, so you know the capabilities of the Sharingan eye better than most...now, can you imagine the full potential of the Rinnegan? I understand why you implicitly trust Hinata Hyuuga, but you must also know that she has been in contact with the last Uchiha. It is easily within Sasuke's power to change a person's very soul, Kiba—he can make Hinata believe lies with such clarity that she will recount them to her friends as convincingly as the truth. You trust her because you love her...but she may not even _be_ her anymore. You would never know. Not even she would know."

Kiba's thoughts were conflicted. The masked woman knew the buttons to push: _I know she's just stalling, letting the air get colder so I get even slower...but she's also right. How would I ever know for sure if Hinata's being manipulated or not? Sasuke can do a lot of things I can't even comprehend..._ _If a lot of us work together...maybe we wouldn't need Naruto to defeat Sasuke. Maybe I should hear her out._ He shook his head, clearing those thoughts. He wasn't going to let his doubts get in the way of his victory. He didn't believe for a second that she was there for any reason other than her own gain, but her words were picking him up and pulling him in a direction he didn't want to go. He grunted once to clear his throat, dispelling the gunk that had continued to well up after he was kicked in the chest. "You're practically reading my mind," he said with a gruffness that echoed the appearance of his battered, hunched-over frame. "It's a bit scary, actually."

The woman's posture stayed carefree, loose in every direction with one shoulder resting lower than the other and one foot toeing idly against the snow. "I know people. It's one of my gifts. That's why I'm trusted to be the primary recruiting coordinator for our group."

Kiba chuckled briefly, finally getting over the pain of his chest—or maybe the wintery numbness was finally setting in to mute it. "You've got one hell of a recruiting technique..." He could feel that at least one of his ribs had been bruised, if not broken. His own wayward momentum plus the sturdiness of the booted kick had packed quite a combined punch. "What good am I going to be to your 'group' if you cripple me, huh?" He had a challenging smirk, as if he had caught her in a lie. Why would she damage her potential ally?

The masked face shook from side to side, sighing outwardly. "Loyal, but not very bright. You attacked me, I responded...I can be patient, but I don't tolerate that kind of behavior. It's best that you learn these things early, else we're going to have trouble working together."

Kiba snarled, dropping down low to the ground and digging his fingers into the snow. He pressed deeper until he found frozen dirt to dig his claws into, using the solid flooring for leverage. Chakra began to surge through Kiba's aching body, enhancing his canine features. His claws grew sharper, his teeth longer. His voice was deeper and his throat was rumbling with barely-restrained instinct. "You'd better get used to the idea that we're not going to work together. If Sasuke is hurting Hinata, I'll deal with it alone...I don't need your help, or _anybody's_!"

In opposition to Kiba's snarling, a carefree giggle echoed through the isolation of the forest, and its source gave a teasing reply. "You aren't strong enough to handle Sasuke Uchiha..." A glimpse through the small vision-slits in the woman's mask revealed placid, pale blue eyes. She didn't seem impressed by Kiba's mild transformation. "You'll get yourself killed if you try."

Kiba knew it was true, but his pride was firing at full blast and he couldn't close the spigot. "Either way, you won't live to see it!" He lunged again, this time with the aid of his beast-human taijutsu; his speed and power were upped by the flow of his chakra, and the passage of energy also served to warm his body significantly. This time, he reached for the woman's legs, aiming with his honed claws to attempt to cut a chunk out of her ankles. She must not have seen the attack coming right away, because Kiba's nails very nearly sliced into the lower hem of her dark robe before she jumped over his head and landed on the other side of him.

He turned quickly to thrust himself toward her again, swiping the air that should have been her vulnerable gut. She was still too fast, still too perceptive. His attacks were getting him nowhere, and her style showed no weaknesses that could be exploited. _She's still not leaving footprints...and her movements don't make a sound. Not even her breaths are giving her away. If she wanted to disappear, she could...so why is she staying in the open? Why would she wear black in a field of white snow?_ It didn't occur to him that she was just toying with him, that he likely never stood a chance to begin with. In his mind, she was narrowly avoiding his assault, and with every lunge, he saw himself getting closer and closer to making a satisfying tear into her flesh. Her blood; that's all he was looking for.

From the outside, it was like watching a dog as it nipped ineffectively at a rare winter butterfly. Unbridled aggression versus nigh-oblivious grace, as if the target was merely fluttering about aimlessly, silently unaware of the creature that wished for her death. From time to time, Kiba's enthusiasm robbed him of spatial awareness, and his lunge would find him striking hard against the bark of one of his former practice targets. With a shockwave that resonated through the immediate area, the tree trunk shook, and several thick leaves fell harmlessly down from above to lay atop the snow. The green discs were promptly swallowed up by the increasing intensity of the blizzard. As he continued to wildly strike, Kiba was tiring himself out, but he was truthfully no closer to making contact than he had been in the beginning.

Calmly, and as the only noise that escaped her nimble form, the mask spoke to him: "Give it up before you hurt yourself; I don't think you understand the difference in skill between us." She put her hands together in front of her chest and she landed sternly on both feet. With a quick sidestep, she allowed another one of Kiba's aimless attacks to sail past her. She began to form seals for ninjutsu, and by the time Kiba landed on all fours once again, he turned to leap yet another time only to find himself assaulted by icy chains. The transparent links rose with a clamor from the snow beneath him, quickly shackling his ankles with sub-zero solidness and squeezing tight. He was mid-jump when he was yanked back to the ground, groaning in pain as he crashed onto a particularly hard segment of the snowy landscape. There must have been a large rock beneath the initial lair of fluff, because there was an audible thud of living meat crashing onto something sturdy.

"Gah!" Kiba exclaimed while he writhed against the bindings, a fresh throb of hurt running up and down his hip, just where he collided with the hidden boulder below. Because the chains had stopped at binding his ankles, his hands were still free, and he narrowed his eyes with a sense of true urgency. "I'm done holding back!" he shouted defiantly from his pinned position, though the snow dampened his voice to where it left no echo behind. He felt terribly isolated. Was he going to die there? Was anyone even looking for him? He had traveled far and left a lot of bad feelings behind him. Without anybody else to depend on, he was forced to give his all in the hopes of escaping whatever fate the icy antagonist had in mind for him. Focusing his chakra into his limbs, and most especially his clamped feet and ankles, he howled into the night. Despite his animal rage, there was still no echo of his voice. The snowflakes in the air around him began to whip and stir, repelled by the intensity of his gathering energy. The chains rattled violently around his ankles, but they held firm, gradually cutting the circulation to his toes and robbing him of sensation. _I have to be quick, strong, and fearless...same as always._ Despite the danger of the situation, he was still smirking. No matter how small his chances were, he knew that Naruto never gave up, so neither could he. Regardless of how much he talked about Sasuke, surpassing Naruto was always Kiba's ultimate goal.

With a last breath to prepare himself, Kiba unleashed a scream of matchless fury. Using his entire upper body, he threw himself into a violent twirl, and with a stiff jolt of pain around his ankles he forced tension through the chains and shattered them with a deafening snap. Ice broke uselessly into several directions, and Kiba came loose with a lurch. With his freedom and confidence restored, he sailed through the air in a violent spiral guided by his eyes alone. _"Tsuga!"_ he bellowed, emptying his lungs of air and putting everything he had into a final burst of movement and force. Mid-flight he became surrounded by white, gray, and black corkscrews of his own making. Wind, chakra, and claws were working in harmony to form a physical attack that exceeded human limitation. It was fast; faster than he had ever moved before.

All the while, his opponent had stood rather nonchalantly across from him. She might have let out an impressed hum when he snapped the chains from his legs, but the sound was drowned out by the torrents of wind and rustling branches. When she felt the initial rush of wind slinging across her body, she recognized that avoiding his attack would not be as simple as the ones preceding it. With that in mind, she formed a single hand seal and braced her feet against the snow underfoot. The living drill that was Kiba rocketed toward her, and her eyes widened with reaction to the speed. "Not bad," she remarked to herself as she unleashed her own ninjutsu to counter him. It was a surge of powerful wind that was augmented by the freezing air of the environment. The hissing gust come from the sky itself rather than from the woman's hands or mouth. The howling torrent swept through the clearing, narrowly intercepting Kiba's savage motion with an abrupt jolt of air that carried his trajectory off center, shoving him into a wide, horizontal arc that forced him to barely miss his target yet again.

Kiba's momentum had been fluidly redirected, and he had put so much speed into his attack that he could no longer stop himself. As he passed his enemy without touching her, he saw her hood and sleeves rippling from the wind. Despite the intense speed, he could see that she was making eye contact with him. Beneath her smooth mask, one pale blue eye winked, and then Kiba's view was taken over by blackness when he collided head-first with a series of trees. One buckled, two buckled, then the third one finally stopped his momentum when his rotational force ground to a halt and his shield of fangs, claws, and chakra had been stripped away. Along the path behind him, two massive trunks toppled to the left and right, causing a crash against the snow that was mighty in force, but muted in sound. Stray branches and leaves fell all around Kiba, concealing him from view and giving him a moment to breathe.

Kiba groaned as he gathered his bearings again, roughly yanking his fist out of a tight socket which he had punched into the third tree. He turned around and searched for his opponent, but she had taken the moment to disappear. Without scent or sound to track her, he began to sweat, but even the salty perspiration began to freeze against his skin. His breaths were getting deeper, but he was receiving less oxygen from each successive one. The air had grown akin to what could be found at the top of a mountain; it could barely sustain life, let alone refuel his aching lungs. He had exerted himself too much, too quickly. And to make matters worse, he had no idea of where the next attack would come from. Faced with no other options, he fell into bad habits: "Come on out, unless you're scared!" came his howl with great bluster. He was answered by silence, at first. Emptiness. The snow continued to fall, but the rate had slowed significantly. Where it had once resembled a blizzard at the peak of its exertion, it was yet again trickling as if it were a gentle, windless winter morning.

A voice—her voice—came out from everywhere at once, echoing in and out of the snow in a way that no other sound had been able to do. "Drop the act, Kiba—I can tell that your chakra is running low. It's been fun, but I have a schedule to keep. If you won't come willingly, then I'll just take you with me by force." She was nowhere to be seen, or at least that was Kiba's assessment. He looked behind his back, over his head, between the trees, and wherever else his eyes could point without leaving the cover of the thick forest. His position was protected from ambushes, at least from the outside. Unfortunately, the ambush came from below. With a quiet _slink_ there was suddenly a gash on the outer edge of Kiba's right shoulder. It took him a split second to realize that there was a long icicle jutting up from the snow beneath him, sharp and freshly bloody, and it had ripped his sleeve and sliced his arm almost instantly.

With a groan of pain, Kiba hopped instinctively away from his hiding place, slipping between another pair of trees. Along the way, more icicles leaped out at him at various mismatched angles, and he bobbed and weaved along the snow to avoid them as best he could. His arms and legs burned from tiredness, but the threat of being pierced by a constant upheaval of ice kept him running. No matter where he turned, he could not see the end of the snowy landscape, and there were ever-more icicles jutting out from below and in front, forcing him to follow a specific route as if it were a game. Eventually, he caught another glancing blow, this one to his outer left thigh, a blow which opened a second bloody wound and promptly began to freeze as well as his shoulder. Through the fresh pain, he thought urgently: _She must be able to attack from anywhere that's covered by the snow. I need to get away from it or else I'm done for._

It was then that Kiba aimed his retreat upward, scrambling to scale the side of a still-standing tree and seeking to escape the blanket of violently-erupting snow on the ground. The face of the tree was empty of frost due to the steep vertical climb, and Kiba dug his claws into its bark to bring himself halfway up its massive height, stopping there to take a safe perch and reassess his situation. There were innocent-looking piles of snow on all of the nearby branches, but Kiba knew better than to trust them and stuck to the central trunk. "You're gonna have to do better than that!" He called out, even though he knew it was a bad idea to taunt her further. He could feel the blood on his shoulder and thigh hardening, and the cold was digging through his wounds to reach further beneath the skin as well. His muscles were beginning to seize up, and his right hand's grip upon the tree bark was becoming weaker by the moment. Hollowly, he murmured to himself with one eye shut due to numbed exhaustion. "Gah, this is bad..."

A response came, but not as an echo this time. The source of the words was present above Kiba's head, and with a turn of his eyes he could see the bleary shape of his foe. Her ambiguous figure was standing with both feet planted horizontally against the vertical slope of the tree, the lower hem of her robe dangling in front of her booted ankles to sway in the easy wind. "It doesn't have to be so bad," she offered to him kindly. "Why won't you just surrender and come with me peacefully? Don't forget, Kiba...My goal isn't to kill you. I just want you to listen to me." She took a step forward, walking across the steep surface of the tree as if it were a flat sidewalk. Wherever her feet landed, ice began to crackle outward along the stiff bark, warping and displacing the wood. "Then again, if you keep squirming like that I may have to freeze _all_ of your blood to make it stop." Her light voice formed a hauntingly quiet laughter. As delicate as the falling snow, but as dangerous as the stabbing ice. "I wonder if you're strong enough to survive that."

Kiba looked down below. He had climbed high, and although it looked soft, he knew that the snow beneath him spelled more danger than safety. Yet above him, the frightening female was inching closer, taking one step at a time from heel to toe. _I can lunge at her, try to take her off guard...but there are a lot of snowy branches at her back. She'd definitely have the advantage if she retreated into them...hell, who am I kidding? She has the advantage anyway!_ He didn't take long to reach his conclusion, and without thinking or giving a howl of warning, he launched himself with all four limbs to meet the woman's slow approach. His vision was blurred along the sides, becoming darker as he moved faster—either he was blacking out, or his speed was higher than anything he had ever achieved. Desperation had a tendency to test one's limits.

He still wasn't fast enough. The last thing he consciously saw during his assault was a booted foot filling his sight. His target had reeled back, and then sprung forward to kick his chin like a playground ball, impacting with enough pressure to completely deflect his momentum and blow him away from the tree altogether. After breaking cleanly through two solid branches, he felt frozen air at his back and nothing else to catch onto. As he fell like a stone, his eyes started to work again after the daze, but all he could see below was a broad expanse of pure white. He shut his eyes and brought his arms up to protect his face and neck from impact, fully expecting to meet a bed of sharp icicles. Surprisingly, he had a relatively soft landing on neutral snow, though he bounced twice and slid several feet before he came to a stop.

He felt the cold white blanket give way and crumple beneath him, piling up on either side of his frame and forming an imprint of his body into the powder. He paused for a moment in disbelief that he was still alive, but when the stunning relief wore off he pushed himself out of the snow and shook himself out on all fours, clearing the flakes from his hair and clothing yet again. When he finally had the courage to open his eyes, he saw the pale white mask of his assailant leaning toward him. She was seated cross-legged, patiently awaiting his attention as if he had blacked out. And maybe he had. He grumbled with half-awareness, drifting in and out of consciousness and stumbling on his hands and knees while trying to stand up. "What do you want with me, if you're already this strong?" he demanded impulsively, not expecting much of an answer. He had figured that her words were largely false, that she was merely trying to lower his guard with promises of importance.

Her response was unexpected. "I want to secure the future," she hummed with a soft, sad seriousness. "You are young, Kiba. You have a long life ahead of you—and as with any life, there will be numerous difficult choices you'll be forced to make." She moved to stand, patting herself on the right arm to clear a dusting of her own snow from the black sleeve. "Our goal is to ensure that you make the _correct_ choices when the time comes. That's all we want for this village, in the long run: We want the younger generation to make the right decisions."

Kiba snarled. He was too weak to push himself onto two feet, so he stayed low to the ground. The snow around him refused to melt, despite the exhausted heat of his core. His extremities were slowly freezing up, so he had nowhere to run, no way to shut the woman's mouth. He was beaten, but he refused to let himself believe it. "The right decisions? No matter how you make it sound, you're talking about going against Naruto's will, and trying to get rid of Sasuke...This is about betraying the Hokage, or causing a coup, isn't it? Do you want us to go back to where we started? You want war breathing down our neck from every direction?"

A dainty sigh. "Kiba, you really don't know how things work, do you?" She folded her arms under her chest, for the first time causing her feminine swell to be outlined loosely by her robe. "War is brewing whether you believe it or not. Maybe not immediately, but soon it will come back. Someday, someone will come along to stir the pot, and make no mistake it _will_ boil over. And if Konoha continues to depend on Naruto to protect it?" She raised one hand, clenching a fist and causing numerous slender icicles to rise up from beneath Kiba, needle points pressing against his abdomen, thighs, neck, and arms without _quite_ puncturing him. He gulped, and he paid extra close attention to her next few words while trying not to move too much. "Then Konoha will be as helpless as you are now, once he's gone. Peace and protection will inevitably weaken us, and allow us to take life for granted. War keeps us hardened, makes us cherish our survival that much more...a generation that's raised on calm, tranquil shores will buckle when the tsunamis return."

Kiba swallowed with great caution, lifting his head to keep his throat from pressing into the frozen point that held him hostage underneath. He pushed through his worries and defied "I don't care what you have to say...you're the villain in my eyes." He looked at her with a placid stare. He was losing himself to the cold, but he refused to show fear. Whether he blacked out or not, he wasn't going to admit defeat. That was the Will of Fire, and Kiba Inuzuka bore it. It was burning strongly within him. "So what if I want Sasuke gone? I'll never betray the Hokage's trust...no true member of this village would do that!" He shut his eyes tight and braced for the incoming discomfort as he summoned up the very last bit of his chakra, then used it to twirl into a last-ditch Tunneling Fang. He felt his arms, legs, and torso receive superficial cuts as he forced his way over the icicles, breaking free of their encompassing grasp with a heavy groan. The cold worked to his advantage, instantly sealing his wounds with a frozen barricade. He was already numb all over, and it couldn't get any worse than it was. If he failed this time, that would be it, and he knew it.

Unfortunately, his failure was nearly instant. Though he had broken out of the fragile, icy prison that had surrounded him, he did not make contact with his foe. She had seen the attack coming—she had probably planned for him to do exactly as he did. She stepped gently aside as part of a mocking pirouette, ending the twirl with a sigh that fluttered through the silence. Kiba hit another tree, but this time his power was not enough to drive him through it. He cracked the outer layer of bark, but that was all he could accomplish with what little reserve he had left. With heaving pants, desperate for air that refused to nourish his blood, he turned to place his back against the bark and looked helplessly at the black-clad shinobi who inched her way closer.

"Are we about finished, Kiba?" She asked him with a cant of her head. She didn't get an answer. He was conscious, but not vocal. His eyes were rewarding enough; submission, at last. She had broken his will to resist. Now all that was left was to build him up from the bottom to serve her needs. "I give you credit for trying so hard, but you've been at my mercy since the very moment the snow began to fall." She held out an open palm, and a little flake landed at its center, balancing precariously on its immaculately-formed edge. " I've been named Miotosa; I am unheard, unseen, and quickly forgotten...unless I choose differently. The cold is my flesh and blood." There was a playfulness to her words, as if addressing a comrade.

She waited a moment, testing Kiba to see if he was alert enough to give an answer of any kind. None came, not even a twitch, and Miotosa sighed in defeat. Though Kiba's eyes were open, still, they were nearly soulless. Blank. He was out like a broken bulb. "Mm, you were more fragile than I thought...I assumed you'd at least remain conscious if I let you wear _yourself_ out. What a waste of a good introduction." She reached Kiba's slumped-over body and kneeled down to meet him at eye level. "Come on, then. I'll take you home with me. I'll even give you a nice new collar..." Her leathery-lined fingers sought to clutch the neckline of Kiba's tattered shirt, but as her grip came to a close...she felt nothing there. No weight, no resistance, nothing solid at all. Her fingers passed right through the dark cloth, and even the flesh and bone that should have been beneath seemed to fade from existence as she tried to touch it. It took her a moment to realize it, but that moment was all it took to put her at a disadvantage. _Genjutsu! But how?_

A barrage of kunai flew pointedly through the silent forest, slicing through several airborne snowflakes along the way. Miotosa's eyes narrowed as she counted on the fly, preparing to dodge: _One, two, three, four, five, and six...six kunai in all._ She could feel every broken flake as the knives passed through them, and she presumed the trajectory of the metallic assault quickly enough to dash out of the way of each individual projectile. The blades were unseen—concealed from sight by genjutsu—until each one of the six kunai impacted into the snow, all with oddly precise timing and placement. Miotosa found herself slightly confused. _It's like they were thrown to purposefully herd me into this spot, but—_ shecouldn't finish her thought before a seventh kunai, one which hadn't passed through any snowflakes and had remained invisible until the last moment, thunked directly into her left bicep. Rather than yelp with pain, she instantly focused upon the helpful sensation to distract her senses, using the rush of adrenaline to break herself free of whatever genjutsu had been placed upon her.

But how had it been placed, and when? The situation only started to make sense when reality flooded back into the recruiter's perception. It was shimmery at first, hidden by a cloud of somebody else's chakra, but when the form of Kiba's savior came into view, Miotosa hummed with amused realization. This person had red eyes, dark hair, and was undeniably a master of offensive genjutsu. "Mm, you've already managed to figure out the detection properties of my snow. Did you come all this way, staying unnoticed by bounding between the unfrozen trees? Even without being brushed by a single snowflake?" She plucked the kunai out of her arm with a jerk, and then tossed it casually aside. She flexed the hand attached to the injured limb in order to test each finger, finding herself to be in working order. "It was also pretty clever of you to allow me to sense six of those kunai, leading me to ignore the seventh, all while maintaining such a powerful genjutsu...It's as I'd expect from a shinobi of your calibur. However, this is a rather unexpected visit...Kurenai Yuhi."

Indeed, Kurenai was there, and she was carrying Kiba's real, limp body upon her back. She had begun the genjutsu at the moment Kiba's body went limp against the tree, quickly fudging the ice-woman's perception and giving herself an opening to retrieve Kiba and then launch a quick attack. After watching her poignant illusion be promptly dispelled by a skilled opponent, Kurenai took on a serious expression. Her sandaled feet were clutched to the frostless bark of a tree, intentionally staying clear of the whiteness below and above. She had been instantly wary of the snow upon first sight, even before she had fully determined its properties. From her position above the ground, she shivered slightly but didn't allow a little bit of cold to hinder her focus. She locked eyes with Miotosa, angry but measured. "You've hurt my student, and I don't intend to let you get away with it." Kurenai pulled out a length of wire string, whipping it outward and then lashing it behind her back. Rather than using it to attack, she utilized it to tie Kiba safely to an empty portion of the tree behind her. Soon, he hung there unconscious, bound around the shoulders, waist, and ankles. Not exactly dignified, but it was enough to keep him out of harm's way. With that accomplished, Kurenai dug deep into the pouch at her hip and produced another set of kunai; eight this time, each one clutched between different fingers on each hand, brandished and ready to throw.

Miotosa folded her arms across her chest. "Well, now...this won't do. As much as I'd like to test myself against you, I have to be going...I have a strict timetable tonight, and the next deadline is coming up fast." She waved a casual hand, then a swirl of snow kicked up beneath her, starting to envelop her around the ankles and slowly rising. It was a transportation ninjutsu.

 _"Oh no you don't!"_ Kurenai objected, sprinting down the tree and then across the snow, keeping herself from sinking into the drifts by using chakra from her feet; kunai were loosed along the way, flying toward her enemy with intense precision. She threw six, and each of them got knocked aside by a slash of ice that seemed to act on its own. Just before Miotosa was entirely covered by her escape technique, Kurenai's hand pierced the veil and shoved a held kunai toward the other woman's masked face, forcing her to react with a raised hand and a quickly-formed frozen blade of her own. Metal clashed with clear ice and made a loud snap, then the rising snow was scattered as the technique lost focus. "I said I won't let you get away with it," Kurenai reaffirmed with a harsh voice, her arm trembling with effort. While one kunai kept the icy dagger held at bay, Kurenai's other arm aimed a low swing—with a second kunai—at the abdomen of the black robe in front of her. Miotosa opted to leap backward and disengage to avoid the stab, letting off a groan of frustration as she skidded along the snow to a halt. Even still, there were no footprints to mark her travel.

"You're pretty annoying," Miotosa affirmed, putting her hands together to form several seals. Kurenai was already charging in again, aiming to pressure her opponent as much as possible to deny a quick escape. Miotosa slammed her hand into the snow and announced the name of an advanced technique: **"Hyōton: Mounds of Dancing Snow!"** A rumble came up from the almost twenty inch deep deposits of snowflakes that coated the land. Huge, round-topped swells rose from the tranquil expanse on either side of Miotosa. They each began to move, acting like waves of motion that passed through the snow without displacing it. Soon, two waves became four, and four became eight, and the waves grew taller and wider as they fed off of one another like ripples in a pond. All of them came rushing toward Kurenai.

Kurenai ceased her charge and quickly produced a wealth of kunai with explosive tags tied to their hilts. "Damn it!" the red-eyed Jonin cursed, throwing each of the tags in a different direction with a single sweep of her arm. The booms came all at once and should have been deafening, but even the explosive burst of gunpowder and collapsing snow could not fully stress the dampening qualities of the chakra-infused weather that enclosed the area. "That won't be enough to stop me!" Kurenai seethed, rushing forth under the assumption that the explosions had been enough to at least temporarily dispel the enemy's ninjutsu. Upon closer inspection, that seemed to be true—the burgeoning waves of snow had been partially scattered to the wind; their movement was halted completely, leaving behind mutilated husks of ice that were solidified by the intense pressure of the ring of explosions. The heat hadn't been enough to melt the snow, only serving to fuse it more tightly together, but that seemed to be enough. The technique was short-lived, and Miotosa was still hunched down with her hand against the snow. "Nowhere to run!" Kurenai asserted, drawing yet another kunai from her pouch. Her supply was beginning to run low, but with luck she wouldn't need any more.

Ice and iron clashed yet again, with Kurenai taking ground and pressing Miotosa backward. The pair constantly exchanged blows with sharp weaponry, and the sensei of Team Eight had a clear advantage. With every swipe, she gained a step, pushing her adversary backward with the force of her blows. Despite the chill that sunk into her spine, she was driven by the desire to protect Kiba from harm; the young man's skin had begun to turn faintly blue, and the only way to ensure his survival was to dispel the unnatural cold that permeated the small region. And so Kurenai's efforts were all focused on the source of that cold, the renegade shinobi calling herself Miotosa. A codename, certainly; not information that Kurenai was likely to get any use out of. Still, it was good that she overheard the introduction. It gave her something to report. But that was a thought for another time, as the heat of battle was growing steadily more frantic. Both of Kurenai's arms were swinging and sweeping with heavy blows of her kunai, but she was constantly being deflected just in the nick of time, barely missing contact.

Then the stalemate occurred. Kurenai aimed two stabs, one high and one low, toward Miotosa's neck and gut. Rather than deflect them with frozen blades, the target oddly decided to open both hands and allow the sharp metal to pierce each of her palms, penetrating straight through and fully impaling her hands. She let off no sign of pain; her fingers clamped tightly around Kurenai's own, taking advantage of the momentary surprise to capture her superior opponent and create a deadlock. Miotosa spoke through ragged breaths, seemingly amused despite the situation. "I wonder...has the famous Kurenai Yuhi been slowed by the cold, or is this the fault of motherhood having robbed you of your killer instinct?" It was a murmur of confidence.

Kurenai tightened the look on her face, refusing to let go of either kunai despite the tight grip around her knuckles, thus ensuring that no seals could be formed and no escape could be made by either side. She countered the confident question with a frown and a cautious observation. "I don't think you're in any position to mock me...your hands are all but useless, now." Kurenai could feel the frigid surface of Miotosa's gloves all around her own hands, but her vibrant chakra kept her body warm from knee-deep snow to windswept scalp.

"Hmm, that might be true, Kurenai, if these _were_ my hands." Miotosa began to laugh quietly, shaking her hooded and masked head as if to condescend. "You were never going to notice, were you?"

Kurenai assumed it was a bluff. "Notice what...?" She was skeptical, but bothered by the prospect of loose ends.

Miotosa leaned in, touching the forehead of her mask against Kurenai's own. She whispered through the mouthless porcelain and squeezed a bit tighter around the Leaf Jonin's hands. "I switched myself with a clone while you were distracted by my snow mounds...I'm already long gone from here."

In light of that revelation, Kurenai instantly swore and butted her head hard against her opponent's mask—sure enough, the whole construct fell apart against the pressure. The hands fell off and shattered while the body split cleanly down the middle from head to pelvis, falling open to reveal the crystalline structure of solid ice within the copied robe. Even the black material started to melt as the doppelganger was dismantled. Kurenai was none too pleased, but as she scanned her surroundings she realized that there was truly no trace of the woman who had once been there. With a cautious glance over her shoulder, Kurenai checked to see that Kiba was still in place—hadn't he been Miotosa's objective from the start? Oddly, he was still strung up against the tree, and in fact the blueness of his skin was starting to fade away. The temperature of the air was no longer being maintained by the ice-user's ninjutsu, which caused the warm summer night to flow back in quickly, abruptly melting the snow that had caked up. In fact, it melted more quickly than natural snowfall would have.

Not a trace of Miotosa was left behind...except for one possible shred, and Kurenai acted quickly to retrieve the evidence before the melting snow had a chance to wash it away: the kunai that had sunk into the real arm of the invader, moments before the clone had been swapped in. Upon finding the blade in question and making certain that it was the same one, Kurenai's heart sank a bit. It was completely clean on all sides, not a speck of clue left behind. No cloth, no blood, no nothing. Kurenai mumbled to herself incredulously. "How can there be no blood at all? It was a clean hit...it stuck deep."

From behind, Kiba seemed to have already regained consciousness as his body thawed. "H-hey...what happened...?" He started, then as his eyes fully opened he realized that he was tied up. "Gah, somebody get me down from here!" he squirmed and struggled against the wires, but he was too fatigued to put up much of a fight. Kurenai sighed and pocketed the useless kunai, swiftly climbing the tree to begin cutting Kiba free.

Several minutes later, Kiba had been bandaged roughly, courtesy of Kurenai's first aid skills, and he was seated on the newly-recovered grass of the forest floor. He was reveling in the scents and sounds of the woods, ecstatic to do so after having dealt with a long deprivation of his senses. "Ahhhh," he sighed, closing his eyes and relaxing. The pain was minor, all things considered; frostbite here and there, a couple of burning cuts and sores, but nothing terribly serious for a ninja as strong as he was. He tilted his head and beat the left side of it to empty the melted snow-water out of his right ear. He groaned a question, still partially out of sorts. "So...who was that? Do you have any idea?"

Kurenai was finishing up the last rounds of bandages against Kiba's shoulder, and she frowned at his question. "She called herself Miotosa, but other than that, I have nothing. I tried to track her, but she didn't leave a trail for me. Did you catch her scent while you were fighting her?"

Kiba growled with the memory. "No, not even a hint of it...it was like she was some kind of ghost. If I couldn't see her, she might as well have not existed at all." It was particularly frustrating for him, due to having so much pride in his nose.

Kurenai gave a nod, tightening the white wrapping around her pupil's wounded shoulder and shutting her eyes as she took her hands away from him. "Whoever she is, she definitely has access to the Ice Release kekkei genkai. Maybe she's somehow using it to mask her sound and scent. Things tend to move slower when they're cold; if she puts enough energy into her ninjutsu, she could be able to stop aromas, and possibly even sound waves, from escaping her."

Kiba shivered again, still recovering from numbness. "I don't like that one bit," he grumbled, refusing to accept that there was a person alive that he couldn't track. "Anyway, I thought Ice Release was extinct."

Kurenai shook her head. "Rare, but not extinct. She could possibly belong to the Yuki clan, or at least have some of their blood...most of their line was wiped out during the Bloody Mist era, but a few likely survived under different names, and some probably fled to different lands...in any case, it's hard to deny what you've seen with your own eyes, isn't it?"

Kiba scoffed his reluctant agreement. Seeing that he was fully bandaged, he moved to stand up. It was tough at first, but he managed. After the struggle, he flexed his back and shoulders, then spoke without much thought. "She said something to me..." he started, but then he trailed off. At the time, he had been quick to deny her words, but...

Kurenai noticed his pause. "Well...what did she say?"

Kiba stood still for a moment. He heard snippets of Miotosa's ramblings playing through his mind, and he gulped when he found himself listening closely in retrospect. ' _You aren't strong enough to handle Sasuke Uchiha.'_ That was true. ' _Though Kakashi Hatake has pledged to protect the village, he inexplicably maintains a soft spot for two men who could flatten it on a whim. It could happen in an instant.'_ Another thought that had nagged the back of Kiba's mind for the last three years. ' _Our soldiers were trying to save her from falling under a powerful influence. It is easily within Sasuke's power to change a person's very soul. You would never know. Not even she would know.'_ He felt his chest beginning to thump, his heartbeat quickening. He thought back to the Hokage himself, and his sternly protective tone: ' _I won't tolerate that sort of talk in my office. He's_ _not_ _going to be forced out or marginalized; Sasuke is a member of Konoha, just like you and I. He has the same rights as we do.'_ Kiba wondered about that, now—especially after hearing the concerns of a group which he had never known about, but undeniably existed.

He couldn't look directly at Kurenai, because there was a great heap of shame in his train of thought. No matter how loyal he was to Konoha, he cared about Hinata. Plus, like Miotosa had suggested, Sasuke was most likely corrupting her, forcing her to tell lies on his behalf. Whether the masked stranger's methods were aggressive or not, she had left behind a powerful possibility. Kiba would not soon forget her purpose for appearing to him that night: ' _I'm proposing a different point of view—a different master.'_ Kiba took a deep, slow, and contemplative breath. If the Hokage wouldn't do something about Sasuke, maybe it was time for somebody else to make the decisions. He was beginning to feel sick to his stomach for even considering it, but his stubborn brain refused to cast it aside like he wanted to.

Kiba noticed that Kurenai was still waiting for a response, but he couldn't bring himself to mention the terribly uncharacteristic things that were running through his head. He hadn't even decided how to respond to them, let alone discuss them with others. To his teacher, he stammered: "N-nothing...never mind. I must have forgotten what she said." But he didn't forget. He remembered every single word. With a forced yawn, he tried to act exhausted, but in truth he was painfully awake with an overactive mind and a lot of guilt to overcome. "I should get home, soon...do you know where Akamaru went?"

Kurenai noticed the dodgy nature of Kiba's response, but she was willing to chalk it up to his condition—for now. She wasn't going to let it slide forever, because the little twitches in his brows had convinced Kurenai that Kiba had heard something specific that he wasn't telling her. Rather than interrogate the injured victim of an unwarranted assault, though, she answered his question with a deceptive smile. "I asked Shino to take him home, along with Mirai. I had intended to talk to you alone about Hinata, but it took me longer than I expected to track you down." She smiled to him with genuine pride, squashing her suspicions beneath something stronger. "You're very good at covering your tracks when you don't want to be found."

Kiba was grateful for the change in subject, embracing the compliment with a wide grin but a stiffness in his neck. "You taught me well, I can't deny that."

Kurenai tilted her head and smiled, reaching out to pat Kiba on the head. "I'll take you home, then I'll file a report of what happened tonight. Sadly, I have a feeling it won't be the first time this sort of thing has happened around the village recently, nor the last."

With a defensive grunt, Kiba turned away from Kurenai and folded his arms. "Actually, I'd like to walk alone. I haven't finished clearing my head after what happened with Hinata earlier." It wasn't a lie, but obviously it wasn't the entire truth, either. "I'll see you tomorrow...thanks for coming to my rescue, Kurenai-sensei."

The older woman brushed him off with a wave of her hand, sighing pleasantly. "That's just the kind of village we are. We look after one another; we protect our own. You would do the same thing for me, or for anybody else in Konoha—and they would return the favor just as quickly. We're a family, every single one of us." She saw Kiba turn her way slightly, and she witnessed the guilt she expected him to feel.

Kiba dismissed his earlier dilemma with a definitive nod of his head. "Yeah...you know what? You're right." He clenched a fist weakly, but with conviction. "Nothing can tear this village apart, and I'm proud to be one of the threads that holds it together." What had he been thinking? Betray the Hokage? And Naruto, too? He must have been out of his mind. With a clear conscience, he began to walk away from Kurenai, who respected his need for privacy and departed in a different direction with a flicker.

But then Kiba thought about Hinata again, and what Sasuke might have done to her. Maybe he wasn't out of his mind, after all...or maybe he was, but he was slowly beginning to embrace it. In fact, it was his responsibility to keep the village together, just as it was everyone else's. He came to a quick and foolish decision: If nobody had the courage to do it, it became his charge alone. He was going to look Sasuke in the eye and call him out in front of the entire village. Others would join in, Kiba reasoned, and when faced with the overwhelming majority of the village's opinion, the Hokage would finally see without a doubt that Sasuke Uchiha was a menace that needed to be either cast out, or _destroyed_.

* * *

 **I hope you liked it! As always, I've been blown away by the positive reception I've gotten for this story. Things are building steadily toward the tournament; people keep asking how long, and all I can say is that its start is getting closer. I can't say a definite number of chapters, but I'll put it this way: with every chapter that comes out, we're one chapter closer to the tournament. =P**

 **Thank you all for reading, and thanks to everybody who has left a review or added this story (or this author) to your favorites or follows list! It means the world to me every time I get a notification that somebody has left feedback of any kind. I'm very PM friendly, as well, so don't hesitate to send a message if you've got questions, concerns, or comments. It doesn't always have to be a public review!**

 **Anyway, thanks once again, and I'll see you next time.**


	42. Sword

**Enjoy!**

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The sky was quite dark as Sai remained with Ino after hours in the Yamanaka Clan's famous flower shop. The doors were closed and locked for the night, and the hourly employees who helped manage some odds and ends around the shop had clocked out and gone home. Sai could not leave Ino alone after the previous night's event, and so he had volunteered to remain behind and help her clean up the shop to round out the evening. He had covered his painting-in-progress with a tarp and taken up a broom, taking to sweeping some loose petals of various colors and aromas up off the nicely colored tile floor. He was deep in thought while his cleaning partner stood in the back sorting out the unsold blooms and keeping a wise inventory. Ino was quite protective of her products, and she would sometimes provide a leery look to a person who referred to them as such. No, to her each plant was like a child, nourished and groomed by its mother until the day it was ready to leave the nest.

The matriarch of the blossoms had a wide smile on her face, though Sai could not see her in the back of the building behind the myriad display shelves. He could tell that she was smiling because she was always smiling when her hands were busy with her passion. "It's not that I don't appreciate the help," she began with intrigued forwardness. "But can you tell me again why it is that you're suddenly so interested in flowers?"

Sai had spared her from the truth of course, to avoid worrying her. Perhaps that was a mistake; his deception would come out eventually, but he hoped that it would be a confession in hindsight and not a rude awakening. It was gradually becoming his sole purpose to keep that woman safe. She meant things to him that he could not properly describe, regardless of how much he had been reading in recent years. He came up with an answer that was true enough to be believed. "Well, it's as you always say—flowers can invoke a great many emotions in the people who view them. I thought it would be a good idea to see those emotions first hand. I am still learning about people, after all." He kept his tone neutral, his eyes partially closed with that false smile he had always practiced. He had grown familiar with a natural smile all his own over time, but that night he could not use it.

Ino gave a light little laugh that seemed to suggest that she bought his answer for full price. She trusted him, or at least she _probably_ did. "Come on, we both know why you volunteered to spend the day with me at work...and why you're still hanging around after closing time." She was getting wry, almost becoming accusational with her catty tone. They were separated by a thin wall and some thick shelves lined with flower pots, seeds, signs, and tags, but their communication was crystal clear.

Sai hummed to himself, shoving the bristles of the shop's ragged old broom underneath a free standing shelf, eventually coming out with a heap of shriveled petals. Some of them seemed old and crispy; they had been hiding in the shadows, avoiding the nightly cleansing for a long time. The last holdouts of a flower that had died long ago in a far away patch of dirt. Ino didn't know the real reason for Sai's presence, but her teasing always left the painter wanting more. She had been affectionate with him before—little nips to the cheek, pats on the back, knee, or thigh, but in truth they were cautious of each other. "What reason do you think that is?" Sai asked to her.

Ino poked her head out through the door frame leading into the back room, her mouth slanted into a semi-scandalous smirk. "You want to paint me, isn't that right?" She then stepped into full view within the door frame as if it were the viewfinder of a camera. She did a little pose, tilting herself at the waist and laying a hand on the edge of her hip. "You just can't work up the courage to ask."

Sai blinked with befuddlement. Well, the thought had crossed his mind. Though Ino was sometimes excessive with her self-esteem, Sai had admitted to himself that she had a rare type of beauty that he had always wanted to capture on a canvas. However, that wasn't his goal and he had no intention of lying to her. His genuine smile touched his face and he shut his eyes to appear as happy as he could, speaking with a bit of slyness all his own. Perhaps a bit too bluntly. "If that were true, then I would want much better lighting than this." He watched Ino's slight frustration as her smirk turned into a scowl and she folded her arms roughly under her chest. He couldn't resist smiling a little deeper. She was quite an abundant source of emotions, and they changed quite often at that. She was good for him.

Ino's face had become a scowl. "What do you mean ' _if that were true_ '? I know it's true, you just can't admit it!" She was blushing and flustered. Abandoning her pose, she quickly turned around and huffed. "Whatever, I have work to do anyway." She sounded annoyed, but it was a common thing from her. Her sour mood would quickly fall away, just like one of the dried petals crunching under her feet.

Sai let out a huff for his own benefit, kneeling down with a dust pan to sweep a pile of debris into it. His eyes went to the door. He thought he heard something out there a moment ago, but he couldn't see anything through the glass aside from the floral displays and a fence across the street. Darkness swallowed everything beyond that, where the dim yellow of the street lamps didn't touch. He then turned to look at the covered easel and canvas behind the sales counter. "Even besides the lighting, I haven't finished the piece I brought with me." He tried to keep the conversation going. Another thing Sai had learned about Ino is that no matter how much she acted like she wanted to be left alone, she was always open to receiving more attention. Especially from him, as it happened. "It may not be in your specific likeness, but you are the one who inspired it." He let the statement drift off, knowing that it was feeding the blonde's ego whether she admitted to it or not.

Silence followed for a moment, and as that moment became longer, Sai began to worry. His visitor on the previous night had been unusual, even aside from the fact that she had been an ice clone. The only reason he had ever noticed her intrusion was because she left an intentional sign of her visit. She could have come and gone without ever getting his attention, if she chose. And so Ino's silence struck an alarm in his nerves. Had the woman come? He dropped his dust pan full of petals, leaving them to scatter across the floor while he rushed toward the open door at the rear of the shop.

In response to the clatter, Ino's voice called out with playful curiosity. "Sai? Did you break something out there?" In contrast to her helper's panic, Ino was giggling to herself. "You know, for being such a skilled ninja I'm surprised at how clumsy you can be."

Sai's urgency ended, and he rubbed the nape of his neck, feeling adrenaline quickly filtering out of his blood. False alarm; one of many that day. He was surprisingly jittery, given his history of calm. "Nothing broken; I just dropped something. I apologize. It seems that I've made things dirtier than they were when I started." He took a deep breath and ran a hand down the front of his face as if to calm himself. The leather of his glove felt oddly soothing as its warm, smooth surface passed over his cheek.

Ino shrugged on her side of the wall and didn't seem bothered. "No big deal. Whether you're any help or not, I'm enjoying the company. I'm usually here doing this alone, so having you around is a definite improvement," she sang as if her solitude weren't a terrible risk in itself. "Even if you won't admit why you came."

Sai was about to answer her, but just when his nerves had settled down he heard a sudden knock on the glass of the door behind him, accompanied by the rattle of somebody trying to open it despite the lock. He turned quickly to check the door, and to his relief it was a fairly ordinary young man with short hair and a heart-shaped box of chocolates already in hand. He was most likely undergoing a 'romantic emergency' as Ino would call it. Sai shut his eyes and called gently to Ino: "There's a customer out front."

Ino grumbled and didn't stop what she was doing. "Tell them we're closed, would you?"

Sai spoke in his typical, unintentionally belittling tone. "He's holding chocolates. I'd say he looks rather desperate."

Notions of romance were Ino's largest weakness, and as the circumstance was revealed she came rushing out from the back and charged toward the door with the kind of haste that should have been reserved for battle. "Why didn't you say so!?" She grabbed the key from behind the counter and quickly unlocked the door, speaking in the sweetest of voices to her potential patron. "Normally I wouldn't open up this late," she began with pointed authority, "but I can't stand by while there's a broken heart on my doorstep!" She invited the gracious young man into the store, and he was all nods and smiles and thanks.

Ino took the youth into the store while keeping a watchful eye on his hands—romantic or not, she was always wary of potential thieves. While she took the late comer on an enthusiastic tour of the shop, Sai moved to the recently-unlocked door and looked out through the glass. Everything seemed fairly normal. His paranoia went unnoticed by Ino and her guest, which was fortunate, because he knew how concerned he must have looked. He turned his head to peer at the pair behind him, momentarily suspicious of the youth himself. The kid seemed bumbling, innocent, and harmless, but wasn't it a shinobi's job to deceive?

The kid was scrawny, though, and decidedly unarmed under his tight-fitting clothes. Ino could handle herself against a guy like that, if worse came to worst. After his brief glance over his shoulder, Sai looked outside one more time and was shocked by what he spotted in the nearest outdoor flower bed. Amidst the bright peonies and dahlias there was a single rose, but the rose was not a rose at all—it was crystalline, entirely transparent. Its shape was immaculate, but its composition was pure, frozen water.

 _Ice._ Sai knew instantly what that meant. Abruptly, he opened the door and stepped out. "I'm going to take a short walk," he called to Ino. She nodded without looking back and kept right on pitching a variety of shapes and colors to the guy in desperate need of assistance. Neither the seller nor the buyer needed to know about the rose or what it meant, so Sai didn't tell them. He could handle anything that came his way. And so he left the shop's interior and reached out to pluck the frozen rose from the trough's soil, turning the sculpture between his thumb and pointer finger to examine it from several angles. It was already melting; it had been fresh when he saw it, but it was not able to survive long in the heat. With annoyance, he threw the rose down to the stony street and watched it shatter like brittle glass.

The pieces settled in uneventful silence, but then: "That was rude," came a chillingly familiar voice from the roof of the shop itself. "You must not know how long I worked on that thing."

Sai's eyes widened and he turned to see the same woman, dressed exactly as she had been the night before in his apartment. Robed from top to bottom, masked by smooth white porcelain with no defined characteristics, and clearly acting arrogant about her own ability to do as she wished. She was sitting with her legs dangling over the side of the roof, a hand cupping her chin as if she were bored. "You wasted your own time by sculpting with ice in the summer," he said to her with as calm a voice as he could muster. "What are you doing here?" His hand was on a kunai's hilt within his pouch, ready to use it if he got even the slightest indication of a threatening action. He didn't like that the woman was standing directly above Ino, who in turn was completely unaware of the intruder's presence.

Miotosa stepped casually down from the roof, taking care to land behind a thick pillar so as to stay out of the view of the shop's occupants. "I told you we'd be in touch, didn't I?" she reminded Sai as if it were business as usual. "I've got a busy night planned, so let's not waste time. Come with me." She dusted her arm off where a cut seemed to have opened her sleeve, but there was no blood. She started to walk boldly in the light and curled a finger, implying that Sai should follow her soundless paces.

He didn't take a step. Why should he do as she requested? "I already told you no," he firmly declared. If she wasn't there for a fight, then why show herself at all? The frigid rose would have been effective enough on its own if her intentions were just a reminder of her presence. Even with his curiosity, he was hesitant to follow her on her own terms.

"Did you say no? I remember it differently," Miotosa murmured. "I only recall that you killed my clone while it was trying to escape without trouble...How very ruthless of you. Impressive technique, by the way. I hadn't realized that the entire room was saturated with your ink; truthfully I had assumed that the smell came from your art alone." She shrugged, refusing to face him as she kept walking. "Come along, Sai—you wouldn't want to make a scene, would you?"

"Why shouldn't I?" Sai asked with a monotone. "You're out in the open. Strategically, there's no way out for you if the village makes you its target." He looked around, checking rooftops. There were no others, friend or foe, that he could see. The streets were empty as well, as most of the businesses in the area had closed for the night. Aside from the sudden visitor to the flower shop and the masked woman who followed shortly thereafter, there wasn't a soul roaming the village block.

The woman finally stopped walking when it seemed certain that her target wasn't going to follow. She explained why she didn't seem worried: "You don't even want to know how many people in this village are unhappy with the current state of affairs, nor how long I've been making house visits. I think you'd find the truth rather upsetting." She at last turned around, facing Sai without a face. "You should really come along. No threats, no traps, just a conversation. I think that you'll like to hear this." She was oddly serious, contrasting the coyness of her previous visit.

Sai relented somewhat. He saw an opportunity, there. If nothing else, he could learn more about his mysterious foe. Ino couldn't place a name or a face on the receipt that had been left behind at his apartment; for all Sai knew, it had been forged to begin with. That left him with a lot of nothing to go on. If the irritating masked woman was choosing to give something up to him, he had an obligation to keep his ears open. "...Very well," he relented and sharpened his eyes. "Let's not go far. I'd like to keep this shop in my sight."

Miotosa let off some laughter, which echoed strangely in Sai's ears. Her voice was just as mocking as expected. "Yes, of course; I know how much this building means to you. Rather, its proprietor. You've changed quite a bit since your days with the Foundation, haven't you?" She started walking, then abruptly jumped, scaling a nearby building that was dotted with dark windows and landing herself on its roof. Sai followed behind, though not too closely. She had said 'no traps,' but he wasn't in a trusting mood. As promised, the flower shop was still in full view from the chosen spot, though the height of the roof itself kept the clandestine meeting out of the view of street-level windows.

The female figure opened up right away. "Pardon the delayed introduction, but you did quite rudely interrupt my plans for the previous night. I am Miotosa, and I serve as the primary recruiter for my..." She trailed off with her thumb against her hidden chin, as if hesitant. "Let's call it a foundation, for the sake of familiarity."

Sai's hand never left his pouch, fingers running impatiently along the banded length of a kunai's grip. He wanted to use it, but he also wanted to keep his instinct in check. It was never so hard to stay calm before, but in the past he didn't feel responsible for Ino's safety. "You won't be recruiting me," Sai reminded. "I've already got strong bonds here that you can't break."

Miotosa paused for a moment, letting her thoughts work themselves out. "Mm, that is strange," she eventually hummed. "You started out as one of Danzo Shimura's prized students. You completed Root's training and passed the graduation exam quite efficiently; you were even trusted enough to keep an eye on Naruto Uzumaki, the village's most valued commodity." She shook her mask and hood, and presumably the head hidden beneath. "No, this is not the person I wanted to recruit. You're no longer the Sai of which Danzo spoke so highly." Rather than seem upset, she expressed no emotion at all, eventually letting off another hum. "Unfortunate, but at least you can understand what's at stake."

Sai narrowed his eyes further and hunched down, combat ready. "What's at stake, exactly?" He asked, keeping his words concise and pointed. _Tell me your goals,_ he thought to himself. _Give me something to work with._

"Her." Miotosa stated simply, turning her dark eye holes toward the flower shop for emphasis.

"You think I'll respond to threats on her life?" Sai's mouth turned to a subtle frown. "I may not be who I once was, but you shouldn't test my patience." He fell back on his old training; his voice was as dull as his visitor's. He couldn't afford to show emotion, to give her something to feed off of. He could see the way she needled him, and he knew what her purpose was. She was searching for a weakness. Unfortunately, she had seemingly known before their first meeting. _Ino_. He couldn't deny it, though he tried very hard. She represented a gap in his armor.

Miotosa sighed theatrically, moving to sit down lazily on the edge of the roof with her back toward Sai, folding her arms in her crossed lap. "You don't understand, do you?" She swirled a hand and produced a floating cavalcade of tiny, clear fragments. She brought them together quickly with another shift of her fingers, effortlessly producing a second copy of the icy rose, the original of which was still melting uneventfully on the sidewalk below. Evidently she hadn't worked very long at all to make it. She pulled the ice to the front of her mask, acting out a slow, decadent enjoyment of its scent. "Ino Yamanaka thinks this village is safe. I could have killed her a dozen times by now, if I chose to. She'd never have seen it coming." As if Miotosa could feel the abrupt surge of protective anger boiling up from the man behind her, she raised a halting finger. "However, that's not my goal. Not _mine_ , but what about someone else?"

"She can protect herself," Sai reasoned with his own scattered thoughts. What the woman said was true, though; if she hadn't announced herself yet again, he would never have known Miotosa had been there. She could have assassinated both him and Ino if she pounced at the right moment. Despite Sai's wariness, both his and Ino's guards were down sporadically all throughout the night. Even his considerable edge had been blunted by the years of relative peace. He refused to admit it to his visitor, though. "No matter who comes for her, she's not at risk."

Miotosa giggled mockingly, an intentional and practiced slight that went right along with Sai's false smile. It was not an emotion, but a message—a warning sign. "I don't know if you actually believe that or if you've just become painfully daft, but it doesn't matter. In either case, you could use my help."

Sai wasn't having it. "No, I don't need anything from you or your so-called foundation. I cut my ties with Danzo Shimura years ago, and I know that you have done the same."

Miotosa looked to the sky in momentary silence, only speaking up after the sudden passing of a shooting star. "Oh? Is that what you think?"

The artist didn't just think it, he knew it. "You called him Danzo, not 'Lord Danzo.' That by itself is proof to me that you no longer follow his path."

Miotosa shrugged nonchalantly. "You caught me slipping up. Then again, I'm not in the habit of using defunct titles. He can hardly be a lord of anything from beneath the dirt of an unmarked grave, hm? He was buried years ago in some dark and cold place, leaving all his children without a way to mourn him. That's if he was ever buried at all." She seemed a tad somber, but it was projected to Sai as insincere. Another false emotion. She was a natural, one of Danzo's students without a doubt. Perhaps it took one to know one. "Regardless, he has been replaced. There's a new Lord, now."

Finally, something Sai could latch onto. He tried to contain his sudden intrigue upon hearing the lead. It was nothing concrete, but any amount of information could become good information once it received the proper context. "A new Lord? Is that who you want me to serve?"

Miotosa moved to stand, her thick boots finally making a sound as she thunked them against the shingled ridge of the slanted building-top. "No, that's no longer on the table. All I want from you is a promise that you won't interfere, Sai. There is no grand mission, no terrible personal sacrifice I can ask you to make." She turned her head over her shoulder, allowing Sai to look into an eye hole and see the sparkling blue of her gaze. "My original mission was to bring you into our fold as a full-time soldier, but I can already conclude that you won't agree to that. I see it in you—the change has taken deep roots." She scoffed in a quiet way. "You're not jealous, nor resentful, nor neglected. You don't wallow in bitterness, loneliness, or poverty. Your anger is incidental, not systemic. You have your flaws, but there's something keeping you afloat, pulling you to the clouds in spite of any hardship. Something that should be impossible for people like us...It's your only weakness, but an indisputable source of strength, as well." She fell into quietness for a second or two. "It's love, yes? You love this village. You love its people." She peered toward the flower shop for emphasis. "Some more than others, but it's all-encompassing nonetheless."

Sai tilted his head, bothered by the shift in tone. "I'm not entirely certain how to feel love...but I know there are bonds here. Bonds which I've spoken of. Bonds which I've sat up at night contemplating. Bonds which have been tested and have held strong." He stayed quite serious. "Bonds that I would die for."

Miotosa kept herself soft, regretful. An act, perhaps, but it had grown into a convincing one even to Sai. "That's what I guessed, and that's why you're useless to me. Even if you were to agree to my offer of employment, you would ultimately betray me. Your loyalties are unshakeable. I have a talent for reading people...and I've determined that you are not a suitable candidate for recruitment." She shook her head with disappointment, then lowered her head in thought.

Sai felt the opportunity to learn more slipping rapidly through his fingers. His original thought had been to play along, to at least receive some promising hints about what was going on in the village. "Maybe I agree with some of what you're saying. Why are you so sure that I would betray you?" He asked, playing it up like he was offended by the suggestion.

The masked woman let off a husky, almost chastising murmur. "It's too late. You've failed my test. The moment you thought the girl's life was in danger, you went straight to her side. You didn't go to the Hokage, and you didn't assign a bodyguard or suggest that she stayed hidden. You took it upon yourself to protect her from the danger, knowing full well that it could cost you your life." Miotosa's mask wriggled a bit, as if she were making a sneer with her entire face beneath it. "We can't use a person with such strong personal attachments."

"So what you're telling me is that you prey upon the weak, the angry...the lonely." Sai felt a sense of despicable distaste bubbling up in his blood. "That does sound an awful lot like Danzo."

Miotosa didn't seem apologetic. "It's nothing personal. It's just good business."

Sai had nothing to hide, now. "You're right, though. I would have betrayed you. I don't want any part in what you're hoping to accomplish, no matter what it is."

The woman's voice formed a hum of confirmation; she knew his answer from the moment she saw his protectiveness. He wasn't afraid, and he wasn't confused. He was determined. And so she changed the conversation again, pondering that determination. "So, to sate my own curiosity...If you were forced to choose between that girl down there and Naruto Uzumaki, which bond would you sever first?"

Resolute, Sai shook his head in denial. "Don't ask pointless questions. I'd sever neither."

"Admirable, but that isn't an option any longer. The plan is already in motion. There will come a time when you'll be forced to choose." A pause for emphasis. "And I'm telling you that you should choose the girl. That's the correct path for you both—and for the village." Miotosa took a deep breath and daintily tossed her second icy rose across the precipice of the building, waiting to hear the resulting tinkle of broken fragments below before speaking again. "When the time comes, don't interfere. More importantly, don't let _her_ interfere. Something is going to happen soon, and when it does...Do me a favor and take her someplace safe; protect her with everything you have."

It all seemed moot, though, in light of an unquestionable fact. One which Sai confidently called to light: "I won't have to interfere at all. You can't defeat Naruto," he informed with the utmost assuredness. "It would take more than what this village can muster to even challenge him. He's an army all his own and he'd never give in to your ramblings."

Miotosa let off a high-pitched breath of amusement. "The combined might of _every_ village would prove insignificant against Naruto Uzumaki; my associates and I know that quite well. However,

we don't need to deploy an entire village...do we?" She seemed to lose her sadness, clutching onto the air of arrogance that Sai despised so much. "We think just one person will be enough."

Sai thought for a moment, finally letting his fingers relax and let go of his kunai. He knew that he wasn't going to need it. Still, he felt a sense of unease. "One person...?" He could think of only one name. "Sasuke Uchiha?" Sai's mind actually fell into a bit of ease at the notion. Miotosa may not have known, but Sai knew the truth and was all too happy to say it: "Sasuke would never agree to help you hurt Naruto."

"That's just the thing, though," Miotosa revealed without hesitation. "He has already agreed to do it. The plan is already in motion."

"What plan? What did he agree to?" His deductive reasoning kicked in pretty quickly. "Do you mean the tournament?" Sai was hesitant to take her words at face value, but there was something disturbingly genuine about them.

Miotosa shrugged, which annoyed Sai even further. "I've said too much as it is, don't you agree?"

"If you don't intend to recruit me, then why are you telling me these things at all?" Sai had no reason to trust her, but even a false lead could provide insight. "Why are you here?"

Miotosa shrugged as if she weren't sure, but she gave a pretty exact answer. "You and I come from the same broken home; we're both a part of the same dysfunctional little family of killers. Maybe it's my instinct to look after you because I see you as a little brother, one who I'm meeting for the first time." After her choice of words sunk in, she chuckled with empty disbelief at her own thoughts. With detachment, she mused to herself. "These things coming out of my mouth...they feel so odd. For both our sakes, you should forget you ever heard them, and that you ever saw me. I have more work to do."

Not accepting that, Sai clenched his body with preparedness, issuing a harsh reply that sounded very much like a threat. "You seem to have a prominent position in this new foundation...so you must know even more than what you've already told me." Sai returned his hand to the concealed kunai behind his hip, ready again to throw it. "I'm supposed to just let you leave, knowing who you are?"

A cold sigh; Miotosa seemed irritated by his resistance to her peaceful proposal. "For your own good, _yes_. I'm giving you and your lady friend just one chance to be excluded from this conflict—don't provoke us, Sai. We're in a position to become the new world order. I told you these things as a personal favor from one abandoned child to another, but don't mistake any of my whims for guarantees. If you make a misstep, somebody will come for you and yours. Even if it isn't me the next time, someone will come. So just lay low for a while, hmm? Don't go snooping in the wrong corners."

Sai tried to count himself lucky that he was being removed from the strange woman's plan, but was that really the case? Perhaps she was only trying to lower his guard. Perhaps she had learned since the night before that he had been working with Sasuke, and she was trying to cut off the flow of information. But if that were true, why would she have let slip about the 'new lord'? Sai let curiosity get the better of him. "You mentioned a new lord...but why do you follow this person? What benefit do you get from your loyalty?"

The question seemed bizarre to the woman, as if it had never been asked before. "It's not about benefits," she murmured. "This is just my way of being the only person I know how to be."

Sai saw a moment of vulnerability; a chance to make a statement. "Mm...but I used to be like you," He whispered as a reminder, though it wasn't needed. "When Danzo was killed, I was granted freedom for the very first time since my birth...I was able to make a choice, and I chose to live my own life, and to serve my own dreams."

Miotosa shook her head. "No, you chose to serve the Hokage's ambitions. Whether you were bound to Princess Tsunade or to Kakashi Hatake, you were never following your own path. That's their style of manipulation; they allow you to believe that you're making your own choice, even while they bark their orders at you...they even threaten you with death should you ever dare to forsake the village. You're still a prisoner, Sai...you've just opted to wear your shackles in the light of day, right where the world can see them."

Sai felt a twinge of frustration. He wondered if that was how he used to sound when he was with Naruto and Sakura during his very first mission with them. He countered her as best he could. "You don't know the people of this village, do you? There's a bond that Konoha's shinobi and citizens alike have created with one another, a shared spirit that goes beyond any one person's orders or ambitions. It's not blind loyalty that ties me to the Hokage—it's trust. Mutual trust." With a sense of pride, Sai hoped that he sounded like Naruto. He was glad to have come such a long way out of the dark.

"Trust is just a disguise for gullibility, Sai, and I never would have taken you for the gullible type." Miotosa hummed softly, disappointed. She started to regret deciding to come out that night at all; it had been one fruitless endeavor after another. Still, she had one more straw to grasp. A personal one; one that wasn't part of her mission. "I never should have contacted you, but it's too late to take any of it back. I'm pulling back my offer of employment, but I do I have one more request before I go...a personal one, in exchange for my lenience and patience." She looked at Sai, and he kept his guard up but didn't stiffen it any further than normal. That wasn't really a good sign, but it also wasn't a 'no,' so she went on with it. "A recruit of mine recently went missing while on an assignment. He doesn't know who I am nor anything else about me, so don't get any ideas. He's a guard for the Hokage, just as you are. I'd guess by now that you've stood alongside him plenty of times by the office door. His codename is Shell." She was strangely hesitant, her voice getting smaller. "Do you have any idea where he could be?"

Was that a sense of concern coming off of her? Sai didn't allow himself to fall for it. He held on to the suspicion that he was being toyed with, giving an answer that was neither true nor conclusive. "I don't keep track of my colleagues; they're free to do as they like. If he's missing, it has nothing to do with me." Whatever misguided sense of camaraderie the woman felt with Sai was not returned, though he admitted inwardly that she was not the person he expected her to be. There was sincerity hidden beneath the deception, but maybe that was just a second layer of deception in itself.

"Mm. I see." Miotosa turned away again and brought a hand up in front of her chest, her gloved fingers forming into a seal that beckoned a swirl of icy flakes to surround her. She was ready to leave. "I'm surprised that you're so bad at lying. You've lost your edge indeed. " She looked one last time at Sai, pushing out more of that probably-false sincerity. "If you can't tell me where he is, just let me know one thing—is he alive?"

Sai considered lying again, but he knew that it was pointless. Due to a lack of practice, he had lost his ability to lie convincingly to another member of Root. Conversely, Miotosa was in no such state of decay, and so she saw right through his acting. With a defeated frown, Sai reluctantly told the truth: "Yes. He's alive."

Miotosa's visible eye closed behind her mask. She seemed to convey a sense of relief. She devoted her concentration more completely to her transportation technique, as if loosened from a burden's grip. "Thank you for telling me." It seemed to be real gratitude. "Hopefully, the two of us won't need to meet again until after this is all over." Abruptly, the ice fully engulfed her body and then splintered away harmlessly in every direction. The encounter was over, and she was gone.

As the last remaining snowflakes melted away, Sai was left alone on the rooftop with a brand new batch of questions. "This is bad," he said to himself. "I need to find Sasuke." He seemed ready to depart on that very task in that very moment, but just as his mind had been made up he heard the distant door of the flower shop. The late-night customer had been dealt with, and Sai watched him leave. The guy had a newly confident smile and a lovely bundle of assorted flowers. Ino was waving goodbye to him, and Sai decided to stay with her. He hopped down from the roof, slowing his descent with one hand on the wall behind him. He landed with silence and approached Ino across the street with a practiced smile. "Did you give him what he needed?" Sai asked to her, tilting his head and closing his eyes with mock happiness.

Ino looked at him suspiciously as he drew closer. She reached a hand out to brush down the side of Sai's black sleeve, dusting away a few snowflakes that had stubbornly refused to melt. "Nevermind that...was it snowing a second ago?" She looked to the cloudless sky and furrowed her brows. "That's weird."

Sai almost told her the truth, but then he stopped himself. _I'm giving you and your lady friend just one chance to be excluded from this conflict—don't provoke us, Sai._ For Ino's sake, he shrugged his shoulders and blew a slow breath from his nose. "You know how the weather has been lately." It was true; snow had gotten into a habit of falling at odd times ever since the war. Most people blamed it on the turmoil caused by the Juubi's revival, but maybe that wasn't the case at all. Maybe it was her all along.

Ino nodded and let off a yawn, swiftly pushing a broom into Sai's grip and winking. "Anyway, I'm glad you came back. There's still a lot of work to do."

Sai nodded. "Yes, of course. That's why I'm here, isn't it?" He took the worn wooden broomstick and returned to his earlier task, ignoring what had happened before. He decided to tell Sasuke what happened at another time. Or...maybe not. Perhaps it was better to stay out of it after all. His urge to protect Ino from harm was beginning to override his desire to serve the village as a whole. Maybe that's what it meant to follow his own ambitions, rather than tying himself to the orders of the Hokage. _No,_ Sai told himself as he swept up another batch of fallen petals. _Trust is worth having, and trust means sharing the ugly truth._ He lifted his gaze toward Ino, who had shifted her duties to the front of the store. "Ino," Sai whispered hesitantly.

Ino hummed sweetly, looking over and casting a wave of her blonde hair over one shoulder. "What's up?"

Her beauty was outrageously apparent, but that wasn't all there was. Sai cleared his head and assured himself that trust went both ways. Transparency is what made peace possible. One could never maintain a powerful bond while keeping important things—dangerous things—hidden in secrecy. And so he decided to tell her with a serious expression: "It wasn't snowing. Actually, I was just given a choice...and I want you to help me make it."

Ino frowned. "I'm guessing this isn't about your painting, is it?" She could tell that things had suddenly become serious.

Sai took a deep breath, looked Ino in the eye, and then he told her what had happened.

* * *

Meanwhile, elsewhere in the village, a collection of snowflakes gathered together in the high shadows of the rooftops. Within the quiet howl of wind and ice, a feminine form came clumsily into existence and then promptly fell several feet downward. Miotosa landed on her hands and knees upon a convenient roof and gave a harsh exhale, panting and shaking her head. "Nngh," she groaned with dissatisfaction. Struggling for a moment, she eventually gave into gravity and tumbled against the cemented rooftop. Her back hit a solid metal air conditioning unit that provided rigid support, allowing her to relax and catch her breath, which she aggressively did. "Must have used more chakra against Kurenai and the kid than I thought I did..."

She pouted and shut her eyes, reaching her hands up to pull back her hood and remove her mask. She shook out her hair, hidden in shadows, and exhaled more easily with her open mouth. If somebody happened to stumble by, her plain face would serve as a much better cover than her ominous, featureless mask. She looked out over the village from her circumstantial perch, and she found herself unaffected by its brightly lit skyline. To her, it was just a bunch of buildings being overseen by a handful of lifeless stone faces; she had seen it all a hundred times before and still didn't understand what inspiration Naruto, the Hokage, Sai, or anybody else got from the image. It wasn't even really a 'skyline', more like a cliffline due to its position inside a crater. _Oh well,_ she thought with a tired huff. _Without chakra, I'm not going anywhere fast...might as well call it a night._ She yawned and tucked her hands behind her head; even a revolutionary like herself needed to take a break from time to time.

* * *

Morning came, and Hinata was curled up comfortably when she felt the first beams of sunlight strike her cheek and rouse her from a deep sleep. The warmth was soothing but the light was irritating, causing her eyes to squint despite already being closed. She tucked her arms around the firmness of her pillow and pushed her head more tightly against it, rubbing her cheek along the semi-rough cloth of the pillowcase. She gave off a contented sigh and delighted herself with the heat of her sleeping surface, then furrowed her brow. Something wasn't right. She didn't _have_ a firm pillow, nor was her own pillow wrapped in a rough case. On top of that, the sunlight wasn't coming in through her window—it came in little spots, as if sneaking through the leaves of a tree. With abrupt shock she opened her eyes and looked at a world she wasn't ready to see.

She had fallen asleep on a tree branch, and her pillow turned out to be the violet padding that covered Sasuke's sturdy chest. The realization froze Hinata in place and forced blood to surge into her cheeks. She bit her lower lip and tried not to panic—had she been seen in the night? Was her family waiting down below to attack Sasuke for kidnapping her? What about Kiba, who had a habit of showing up uninvited in the early hours of the morning in an attempt to find her? She was too stunned to move, so she kept her arms wrapped around Sasuke's hard chest and upper back. She found that the fingers of her left hand were moving properly; the paralysis caused by her father must not have been very serious, though at the time she wondered if she would ever be able to use her arm at full capacity again. Her breaths continuously grew more shallow, more nervous. She had fallen asleep with Sasuke as her pillow, but what about Sasuke himself? She peered sheepishly up toward his face, expecting to see him staring disapprovingly down at her.

What she saw instead was enough to make her forget the awkwardness and force a smile onto her face. A little, innocent smile that just barely tugged the sides of her lips. Her cheeks dimpled sweetly and she giggled in near silence. _He looks so peaceful when he's asleep,_ she observed in her own thoughts, taking a moment to look at Sasuke's unconscious face. He was breathing so smoothly as to be near-silent, his body fully motionless. His chest didn't even rise or fall, but when Hinata put her ear beside his heart and closed her eyes, she picked up the sound of air currents moving in and out of his strong lungs. He seemed to be a perfect shinobi, trained to be silent even when sleeping, never giving a trace of his presence to a wary enemy. Though his soundless stillness seemed to be peaceful, it was the result of a life full of danger and fear. A life in which making any sound at all could spell certain death, where kunai were used to cut throats as often as knives were used to carve steak.

 _How things have changed since the war_ , Hinata mused. _But for Sasuke...has anything really changed? He treats me kindly, but there's always sorrow...always pain. Always fear._ She frowned and looked up to the young man as he slept. His eyes were closed, his neck was slackened. He was held up at his back by the sturdiness of a tree trunk, and the branch beneath them both was more than thick enough to hold. He seemed so vulnerable in that state, so pure. Like anyone could reach out and touch him, whether to help or to harm. Hinata knew better. If there was a threat anywhere within a hundred meters, Sasuke would be prepared to deal with it without ever opening his eyes. The thought made her feel safe, but at the same time nervous—what if he awoke and had forgotten that she was there? Would his instincts treat her as a threat? _No, of course not._ Since losing her chance at happiness with Naruto, there were very few things she could be certain of. One thing in particular, though, had been constantly confirmed: _He'll never hurt me...and I refuse to hurt him._ Taking advantage of Sasuke's slumber, Hinata squeezed her arms a little bit more tightly around him and smiled to herself.

Birds chirped to greet the sun, and doors opened then closed to signify the start of another busy day in the village. Despite her concern about being 'caught' with Sasuke, Hinata couldn't bring herself to greet the day too quickly or enthusiastically. She was thoroughly enjoying her position, gently stretching out her bent waist and knees, sprawling across the tree branch and tensing her shoulders. She took inventory of the scents in the air. Sasuke's was the strongest aroma, a unique and overpowering source of intoxication. Beyond that, there were the leaves and the dewy wood of the tree itself. The wind carried the sweetness of wild and tamed flowers alike, along with some remnants of chimney smoke that came from any number of places that had already begun serving breakfast from their indoor stoves and grills.

In the darkness of the night before, Hinata hadn't gotten a good view from the tree's vantage point; her Byakugan's effectiveness had been hindered by the damage to her chakra flow, as caused by Hiashi. After a good night's sleep, though, she could see the whole village when she looked out through the leaves, even with her naked eyes. Konoha was unbroken and brightly shining in the early day's sun. Windows reflected blinding glares, and even dingy bricks and shingles were given a promising glow. Metal on every rooftop glistened or groaned, depending the level of rust. The faces of the six Hokages looked ready to tackle any threat, and Hinata wondered if there was anybody who could have possibly been unhappy on such a morning, in such a glorious place. That was the village she grew up in; the village she loved. It had been rebuilt, but it hadn't really changed.

Hinata looked again to Sasuke, wondering how he felt about the village in truth. His original home was nothing but a memory for most people; even when it was still standing straight, the Uchiha District was forgotten or ignored after the incident that ended the clan. The occasional child would sneak in to explore the empty husk, but even then it was only on a dare and never for very long. It was hard enough for Hinata herself to work up the courage to cross the threshold into the place for the first time, even though it had been long-crumbled. To Sasuke, though, it was still his home. Still his childhood. It was never rebuilt. Why bother remaking a home for a family that had been dead for over a decade? Hinata felt herself getting a bit teary-eyed, so she intentionally redirected her thoughts to the world down below. She could see down past the various branches to the people who walked the streets. The tree itself wasn't far from the Hyuuga District, but its field of view was tremendous. The best part of it was that she could see it all without leaving Sasuke's calm chest. Her ear was getting used to the rhythm of his beating heart; she had slept to its tune all night, and perhaps that was why she didn't dream. When her dream would be the same as the reality she experienced, why dream at all?

Sasuke's eyes opened gradually, as if his sleep cycle was set to some internal alarm that was ever-so-slightly different from the rise of the sun. Unlike Hinata, his initial response wasn't one of shock or confusion. He seemed quite used to drifting off in various locations; when he traveled the world and couldn't find lodgings for the night, where else was there but the wilderness? One thing did cause him to pause, creating the slightest gap in his steady breath. Though he was used to sleeping in strange trees, he was also quite used to sleeping _alone_. He looked down at Hinata with a moment of silence. In turn she was looking up at him like a frightened deer. Her ears seemed to droop a bit beneath her hair, her head bobbing forward on her neck as if to apologize subserviently. Before she could apologize for whatever she seemed ready to apologize for, Sasuke smirked with natural charm in his voice. "Am I having another dream?"

Hinata caught a lump in her throat that stifled her growing concerns. She melted at the implication, as she melted all the time when Sasuke reminded her of how much he appreciated her. "M-maybe we both are," she stammered with a little yawn in her throat. "What dream were you having just before now?"

Sasuke brought his right hand up to cup the back of Hinata's head, holding her against his chest and using his fingers to straighten out some of the snags and wildness that had accumulated in her hair overnight. "I was talking to my father," he said with a confession that seemed to confuse even himself. It had been a long time since Sasuke had dreamed of his father alone. His entire family made constant appearances, but just his father? What were they talking about? The memory of his recent dream was already leaving him. He shook his head slowly, feeling his left arm waking up slowly from sleep. It was sluggish compared to the right, perhaps still acclimating to its new host. Sasuke used the second arm to rope around Hinata's waist, testing it for functionality. It was still working, still warm—but it was noticeably slower to move than the other. _Probably because Sakura made the chakra pathway too narrow,_ he explained to himself.

Hinata was pondering the dream Sasuke had with his father. She nibbled her lower lip curiously. "Do you remember what you were talking about?"

Sasuke shook his head. "No, I don't. I just remember hearing his voice, and hearing my own voice asking questions. At least, I _think_ it was his voice. It's been so long since I've heard it, I can't say for sure."

Hinata nodded her head, comfortable with the way Sasuke strung his fingers through her messy locks. "I have a lot of dreams about Neji, and even though I know they're not the real thing, I feel like he's actually there. When I ask him things, he tells me what he would tell me if he were really standing right there beside me." She turned slightly, putting her back against Sasuke's chest and sitting herself between his slightly-parted legs, with her own rear and feet set against the tree branch itself. "It's so real that when I wake up, I sometimes reach my hand out as if I can catch him before he leaves me again. I tell him to come back, but he never does. Not until I go to sleep again."

Sasuke set his hands on Hinata's shoulders when she turned away from him. He let her use his chest like a backrest, her arms similarly resting on his thighs as if he were a chair. "I have a lot of dreams," Sasuke said idly. He had talked about dreams with Hinata before, but rarely the specifics—except, of course, for the dream that seemed to come directly from her. The slowly twirling violet. Sometimes he still saw it, peering at him in the distance whenever Hinata wasn't nearby. "Usually about my family...sometimes about Team 7, but especially Sakura."

Hinata felt a little tinge of something. Was it jealousy? "You have dreams about Sakura?" she inquired as innocently as she could, but there was a telling hesitation in the way she spoke. She had revealed her worries, and her fingers lightly clutched Sasuke's knees as an instinct to brace herself for what came next. Would he be bothered by her insecurity? No, probably not. It had never bothered him before.

Sasuke smirked to himself with a teasing intent. "Sure, sometimes I do. Does that really surprise you? I mean, don't you have dreams about Naruto?"

Hinata caught herself nodding slightly, blushing horribly deep. "I...well...he's on everybody's mind, right? I can't help but think about him before I sleep, sometimes." She was sweating a little bit. But why? She and Sasuke both knew how hard it was to completely forget a first love, and in truth it had been barely over a month since the wedding. It was okay to still have some regrets, feel some pangs of 'what if.' Somehow she felt guilty for it, though. She wasn't completely sure why that was—it's not like she and Sasuke had become anything 'official'. She could think and dream and fantasize about anyone she wanted to, and there was nothing wrong with that. It was only a coincidence that most of the time she was thinking about the same man whose warm body was behind her and was flanking her on both sides. She cleared her throat and looked for a temporary escape. "Anyway, it's morning now. I should check in with Hanabi and the rest of my family. Last night was hard for us all." She smiled up at Sasuke. She spoke the truth, but it was also a great excuse to escape the blush-making thoughts in her head.

Sasuke smirked, recognizing the mixture of truth and embarrassment and frankly feeling some of it himself. The way Hinata acted toward him was still extremely new to him; it wasn't like the way other girls had harbored crushes for him. Hinata didn't go out of her way to impress him, she didn't mold herself into what she thought he might like—she just _was_. It was a sort of low-key confidence that struck a heavy string inside his heart. "Alright, Hinata. Once you've done that, you should meet me at our training spot. We've already missed two days; let's not miss a third."

 _Our training spot,_ he had said. Hinata frowned a little. She liked it better when he called it 'home.' Still, the message was a welcome one and she smiled a second later with a nod, evacuating her 'pillow' with a springing step up onto both of her feet. "Okay, I won't be long!" She grinned wide and waved to him, so excited to see him again in a short while that she almost forgot she was leaving him behind. She didn't realize how much she missed having his warmth at her back until she was already turning to go. Hesitant to leave, she almost went right back over to him, but she condemned how awkward that would have been. Resolved to carry out her departure in a tough way, she didn't say anything else. She leaped out of the tree and ran home once she hit pavement, careful along the way down to ensure that nobody was watching where she had come from.

Sasuke chuckled to himself when he was left alone, shaking his head in an entertained way. Hinata was an interesting girl, definitely. His sleep and dreams had been unusually peaceful that night. Although he had a dream and couldn't recall its details, he did remember that it had been a peaceful experience. Perhaps his father told him something that he needed to hear—something rare, something only he could say. Sasuke shook the thought out of his head. _It doesn't matter what he said; it was only a dream. My real father has been gone for a long time._

Clearing his thoughts, Sasuke abruptly got moving. Hinata had business to see to, but Sasuke didn't. He moved out of the coverage of the leaves and felt a rush of wind blowing over him as he ascended toward the sky. He looked down upon the village while he waited for gravity to bring him to his next foothold. It seemed to get bigger every day, and every day he looked at it with deeper appreciation. He had slept within its walls every night for over a month and was beginning to feel completely comfortable there. The physical place no longer seemed alien to him—the problem was the people. He tended to travel high to avoid the stares he got when he stayed on the street. The previous day's hospital waiting room was just one example of the discomfort and fear that came his way on a regular basis. He only hoped that Kakashi was right; participating in the tournament would give Sasuke a chance to make an impression in front of a massive crowd. He used to be loved by the village before he abandoned it—he wanted that feeling back. It wasn't enough to have one supporter here, and another there. He had seen the way Naruto's return was greeted, and on some level Sasuke wanted the same level of admiration to come his way.

In the mean time, Hinata provided more than enough encouragement and affection to keep him grounded. With her in mind, he arrived at the ruined Uchiha District high above the remainder of the village. Behind him was a steep cliff, the depth between himself and the rest of Konoha. Though he felt sky high, in truth there was level ground just on the opposite side of the far wall. The wind blew over him, swishing his hair and clothing around. He stood in place for a long while, looking at the teetered entry gate. It was lopsided and lonely; the whole place was a ghostly reminder of a vanished clan. Sasuke stood on the other end of its borders and asked himself, as he often did, if the world would be better off without any Uchiha at all.

Then he smiled, self-assured. The world needed him, whether it knew so or not. It needed the Uchiha. Long ago, his dream was to restore his clan both in size and reputation, and despite a long detour he had arrived back upon that dream exactly where he had left it. "Itachi...you gave everything for peace. You sacrificed your honor, your freedom, even your family... _our_ family. I would never have understood it as a kid, but now things have changed." He took a step forward, bringing himself under the teetered archway into the rubble of the district. As his feet left stable gravel and fell upon jagged rocks, he felt the same transition in his mind. "But understanding you, Itachi, is only one half of the clan's history. What was Father thinking when he set us on the path that forced you to act? Didn't he know that the clan's coup was doomed from the start?" He furrowed his brow, aiming his sight to the sky and raising his voice, demanding a response from the heavens. "Well, Fugaku Uchiha? What was going through your head!?" Being overcome with sudden grief and frustration, Sasuke clenched both fists, but as before the left hand was lagging slightly behind the right. After a moment of predictable silence, he relaxed his fingers and huffed. "Hmph. Here I am, talking to a ghost and expecting an answer." Stranger things have happened, Sasuke admitted to himself, but the time to ask for answers was long over.

Sasuke scanned the landscape, trying to rebuild a map in his head. _They should be right around here,_ he thought as he moved to a particular spot at the bottom of a ruined staircase. It had once been part of a building, but its shell had been blown away some time ago, its frame collapsed. Even the basement was crunched up, which is where Sasuke began digging in search of his prize.

* * *

Hinata arrived a little more than an hour later. Her hair was fixed, her clothes were changed, and her face looked hardened with determination. Her shoulder had recovered from the night before, though the palm of her hand still suffered some shredding as a result of her father's spinning chakra. She had taken a great risk by stopping such a strong attack with an open palm, but in the end she earned Hiashi's respect, and she figured the gamble to have been worth it. She entered through the same gateway that Sasuke had passed underneath, making the same note of its tilted posture as she always did. She kept hoping that one day she would arrive and it would be standing right-side up again; the change would be a sign of Sasuke's intentions to move forward. She wondered if her insistence on being his student had been too much of a distraction from his goals, but then she dismissed the notion. Sasuke wasn't the type to give in to petty distractions, was he?

She traversed the expanse of broken land and used her Byakugan to find exactly which region of the rubble her mentor had been waiting in. Though he usually stayed in the same one or two spots, this time he was elsewhere, digging his hands through a sunken patch of brown debris. Mostly wood, some bricks. Hinata moved closer to him, cresting a small hill that was made up of broken, rocky stairs. Sasuke knew she was there; how could he not? Still, he kept his attention focused on his task, and Hinata daintily cleared her throat before speaking, as if trying to prevent him from being startled. "Sasuke...are you looking for something down there?"

Sasuke peered up to Hinata, keeping a neutral expression. "A tool to use for our training today," he replied with a business-like tenor. "I'd like to sate a curiosity of mine."

Hinata blinked. "Curiosity?" She asked. Sasuke nodded wordlessly, finally grabbing what he had been digging for. His fingers closed around a black rod that was jutting out from beneath the most recently moved plank, and he gave it a tug. Out came a sturdy (but dirty) blade, shiny between the layers of gray and black grime. Sasuke took up a cloth and wiped the sharp edge clean, though the larger portion of the body stayed caked. Hinata looked more closely at their surroundings, and she saw numerous other weapons strewn around the small area. Knives, shuriken, and even a few blunt metal mallets and clubs. "Is this some kind of armory?" She wondered out loud.

Sasuke nodded again. "That's right. The police force used to keep its own stash, a separate one from the rest of Konoha's storage. Between shifts, all of their weaponry was kept hidden here, with only a few high-ranking members knowing about its exact location. Those ranks included my father, the chief, of course." After a close, sentimental inspection of its properties, he rather nonchalantly tossed the blade toward Hinata, ensuring that the handle would reach her instead of the sharp end.

Hinata caught the handle awkwardly, not expecting to have it thrown her way. She clutched the sword and saw that it had a good length. Its steel was nearly as long as the distance between her shoulder and her fingertips and the handle was several more inches, but it was also well balanced. It had a gentle curve to its metal, and the cutting edge was visibly sharp. She turned her hand from side to side while clutching the handle tight, appreciating the heft but also the ease of movement. She wasn't much of a weapons expert, but she knew it was finely made. "What am I supposed to do with it?" She asked, not getting the hint. Beyond that, its dark grime stirred odd feelings in her gut. The left side of her torso began to pulse with familiar pain, but she concealed it.

Sasuke moved to stand, clutching his own sword's hilt with his right hand. "Well, what do people normally do with weapons like that one?" He patted a hand on each of his knees, clearing them of the dust he had collected while he searched for the particular weapon. "I'm going to see how well you can fight with it."

Hinata lowered the sword, taking a step back as if to escape the suggestion. "But I've never really used a sword before," she admitted bashfully, turning her head as if in shame and looking off to the side. "It isn't part of my family's style."

Sasuke smirked, drawing his own perfectly-forged weapon out of the sheathe that laid along his hip and back. "Haven't we talked about breaking your family's mold? You're off to a good start by putting your elements to use, but we can do better." He took a few steps away from the weapons cache; if somebody tripped and fell onto a bunch of half-buried, upturned kunai, the results would be ugly enough to put an early end the day, to say the least. "Don't worry about impressing me, just do what comes naturally." His eyes turned down to Hinata's grip, approving of the way she carried it. "You've already got a good hold in the base, so come swing it at me."

Hinata didn't move. She kept the front of the weapon turned down, its tip buried harmlessly between two folded stones at her feet. "But what if I hit you?" Her concern was obvious; it was one thing to put a sharp weapon in Sasuke's skilled hands, but to put one in hers? She could imagine a hundred ways for that to go badly.

Sasuke puffed out a confident challenge. "I'd be impressed if you managed to hurt me." He tossed his own tool from his right hand to his left, clutching it with his 'slow' fingers. It was good to feel that sensation again, the fulfilling promise of putting a sword in that hand. "Humor me," he needled, keeping his stance fairly open to give his student plenty of chances to catch him off guard.

Hinata gulped, but despite her uncertainty she ignited the chakra in her eyes. As her Byakugan came to life and provided insight into her surroundings, she frowned slightly at the look of Sasuke's left arm. She could see his chakra visibly struggling to maintain its flow, like a partially kinked hose that started at the elbow and stretched to the fingers, but Sasuke himself didn't seem to mind it. "Alright," she said in order to steel herself. "Here I come!"

She closed the gap between herself and Sasuke with a short hop, keeping her feet close to the ground for the sake of emergency maneuvers. As she took her first swipe, a horizontal slash that could have cut a line across Sasuke's ribs, she felt the tip knocked aside by the blunt side of Sasuke's sword. She flexed her brow and tightened her grip, adding her second hand to the base and making another harsh swing. This time she aimed overhead, but was blocked quite easily again, causing a sharp clang of steel on steel that produced a small burst of hot orange sparks. She briefly pressed against Sasuke's block, testing his strength and finding that he didn't budge. Her arms relaxed and she disengaged, taking a quiet breath.

Sasuke examined the points of impact on his own sword and hummed. Not a scratch. "I won't say you've got natural talent, but you've got something to build upon."

Hinata looked at her own blade and found no chips. As hard as she was swinging, she expected to cause some damage to the sword, especially after witnessing the sparks. "Is it really necessary to learn, though?"

Sasuke wasn't offended by her doubts, though in his mind a sword was one of the most practical and effective tools available to any shinobi. His own blades had served him quite well over the years. Sometimes he missed the one he received from Orochimaru, but it was destroyed during the final stretch of the war. The replacement was up to his standards, though, and had proven invaluable more than once during his travels. Despite his near-fanatic devotion to the weapon, he showed remarkable patience to Hinata's question: "Versatility is the key to success. Remember what I told you before—someone who knows the Hyuuga fighting style can easily plan against it. If you want to do well in a one on one battle, you'll need to have a few trump cards. It's won't be like a regular mission, where your team can complement your weaknesses with their own strengths. In this tournament, just like the third stage of the Chunin exams, it's going to be you against your opponent with no outside interference."

Hinata nodded. "Yes, I know that, but..."

Sasuke lifted a brow. "But what?"

Hinata frowned, bordering on a pout. She touched a fingertip to the edge of her katana, pulling her skin away when she felt a bite. Blood came to the surface in a small droplet. "It's so sharp...What if I seriously hurt somebody with it? This is supposed to be a friendly competition, right?"

Sasuke had to smile, because otherwise he might have put his hand to his face and groaned. She was so sweet that it almost hurt, and Sasuke wondered if she would even kill her worst enemy when given a chance. Indeed, Hinata seemed to be the polar opposite of her increasingly-ruthless sister. Sasuke slowly shut his eyes and took a breath to steady his tone. "This is another thing we've talked about, isn't it? You need to kill your hesitations, Hinata." He pointed his blade toward her, as if emphasizing his seriousness. "Friendly competition is still competition. Your opponents won't be giving you the same consideration you're giving them. When a skilled shinobi fights another, there is no room for doubt. The battle will often be decided in the space of a lightning flash. If you pause for that long, it will be over."

Hinata sighed, frustrated. She didn't know if she was angry at herself or annoyed with Sasuke's insistence on dulling her emotions. Her tone matched her mild irritation, combined with some feelings of inadequacy. "I don't think I can act that way. I can't ignore what I feel, even when I'm in battle. I'm not like Hanabi...and I'm not like you, either."

Sasuke's face faltered slightly, his brows turned down and his lips tightened. He knew that when Hinata looked at him, she saw somebody cold. And for all the effort he made to be different, he knew it wasn't the wrong impression. His moments of warmth were rarities, and he admitted it. Still, he didn't like the way she distanced herself from his methods, or his personality itself. He felt momentarily like a disease. Stifling the emotions welling up, he shook his head and doubled down: "Anyway, it's not just about the tournament. You know there's more going on than that. If you're attacked again, you need to be ready to fight for your life, and sometimes that means dealing a lethal blow as quickly as possible."

Hinata realized after a moment that she had hurt Sasuke's feelings, and she lifted a hand as if to reach out to him, but he seemed so far away. He was hiding behind his sword, its tip turned menacingly toward Hinata. The distance seemed symbolic. "I'll fight for my life with my own two hands," she asserted, dropping the sword at last and pointing her fingers toward Sasuke's steel. "Jyuken is strong. You are underestimating its elegance. Whether flesh, stone, or steel, a powerful hand and focused chakra can deflect anything."

Sasuke breathed a sigh through his nose. Hinata was normally so receptive to his guidance; her oddly stern defiance was unexpected. "You have a powerful chakra affinity, Hinata. Lightning is especially useful when its paired with something made of metal, like a kunai or a sword. You asked me to teach you, and I'm trying to teach you. I don't want to force you into something you don't want to do, but how about we compromise—you give me one day to teach you the basics. If by tomorrow you want to leave it behind, I won't argue and I'll never bring it up again. Deal?"

Hinata hummed doubtfully. She felt like she was being a brat for refusing him in the first place. What was the harm in adding an option to her arsenal? For some reason she was adamant to resist the sword at her feet, but Sasuke's request was reasonable. One day, just to appease him, then she would tell him no. "Okay. I doubt I'll change my mind, but I'll go along with it for a day." Though, in the light of Sasuke's training regimen, a day was more like three of them stacked on top of one another.

Satisfied, Sasuke nodded his head. "Thank you, Hinata. I don't think you'll regret this." He opened his left eye a bit wider, feeding chakra into the socket so that it gradually transformed into its most powerful incarnation, the repeating circles and pale lavender color of the Rinnegan. "Are you ready to start?"

Hinata opened her eyes and locked her gaze to Sasuke's, knowing what came next. Although they had been utilizing genjutsu as part of her training for the past couple of weeks, it was still an odd sensation to willingly submit to such a severe alteration of her perceptions. But it was Sasuke, and she trusted him. "Yes," she said quietly. "I'm ready." And then she instantly felt the chakra in her head become cloudy, followed by the sudden blackness of the world around her. The sky shifted to a deep, bloody red and the birds overhead slowed to a complete stop mid-flight. Hinata felt Sasuke's chakra invading her own, pushing it and prodding it. He took it slow, ensuring that the trauma to her system was minimal during the transition. Once the illusion took hold, Hinata felt her body relax again. The environment had shifted from a dewy summer morning to a dismal, post-apocalyptic hellscape that oddly felt a lot like a second home. Hinata breathed deep, taking in the flavor of the unusual 'air' that existed within Sasuke's imagined world.

From the moment of the genjutsu's implementation, the world ceased to be real and became something in between. Like a dream that didn't fade from the memory upon waking, a fantasy that was as true as the mind wanted it to be. In that world, Sasuke was the ruler—he could keep her trapped there for an eternity if he so chose, but she knew that he had no intention of ever doing so. The transition itself had gotten easier; she had learned the phases. First the darkness, then the stillness. Then the tranquility that came with both, and finally the timelessness that came at the speed of unconscious thought. When she knew that Sasuke had finished shaping the world of their training sessions, Hinata exhaled false air and moved her arms from side to side. Her weight, the way she moved through the calm air, it all felt like she was herself. It felt real.

"Take up your sword," Sasuke instructed to Hinata through the echoing gap that existed between them. Of the entire world, only the two of them maintained true coloration.

"Yes, master!" Hinata replied with rehearsed enthusiasm, though when she leaned down to pick up the blade where it had been dropped, she hesitated. It had been covered by the same inky black as the rest of the land around her. Eventually, she put her fingers around the slick-looking hilt, and when she did so, the sword came to life before her eyes. Inch by inch, it took on its original visage from the real world, complete with every little scuff and mark of dust. She wondered why Sasuke didn't clean it up for her, given that the entire place was an invention of his mind. "Sasuke...is this sword somehow special to you?"

Silence followed as Sasuke didn't answer her question. There was time for talk later; now was the time to focus on making progress. In the motionless wasteland of a world that only superficially resembled the real one, Sasuke charged toward Hinata and swung his sword.

* * *

 **Thanks for reading! Obviously this one took a while, but I have a (sort of) good explanation. First, my classes have started up again. That by itself takes a good chunk of time, but about three weeks ago I started to feel some pretty gnarly tooth pain. It kept getting worse every day for about a week, then I finally saw the dentist. Then I got to have a root canal! I wouldn't recommend it. Anyway, that's my excuse! Hope the wait wasn't too severe, and I hope the chapter was worth it. Thanks again for reading, and I'll see you next time!**


	43. Princess

**Enjoy!**

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Hinata felt like she was being attacked by a specter; some demon from another plane of existence. Sasuke's movements were so swift that she could not see his body, she could only feel the staggering impacts against her hoisted sword when he swung his own against it. Clang after clang drove her backward, but her grip remained tight on the hilt and her feet kept her upright. She struggled to keep her fingers closed, and with every fresh impact she felt her digits slipping out of position. Eventually her borrowed sword was thrown from her grip by a colossal strike and she felt an alarming emptiness in front of herself—the barrier that had been protecting her from harm was suddenly removed, and the next blow had freedom to strike her in any place. As she stumbled back, she winced hard and closed her eyes in anticipation for the hit. She felt a hard rush of wind blow through her hair but nothing else. After a moment of hesitation, she opened one eye to peek at her fate and saw a motionless sheet of sharpened steel an inch from her nose.

Sasuke closed his eyes and hummed in a neutral way, standing across from Hinata and holding her in defeat with the tip of his personal weapon. Whatever he was thinking, he didn't explain it. "Let's try again, but don't be so tense. You're holding on too tight." He let his weapon leave the vicinity of Hinata's face and he took a step back.

Hinata's mouth turned into a frown as she looked around for where her practice blade had fallen. Before she could find it, it was in her hand again, as if it had never been knocked away to begin with. She felt a sense of unease, but it passed quickly. Despite the darkness around her and the deep red sky overhead, the secondary world created by Sasuke sometimes felt alarmingly real—so real that when it was manipulated by its creator, she felt a sense of disconnection. She turned slowly and held the sword up with both hands, prepared to defend herself as the mild tremors of discomfort subsided. "I lost my grip, though," she said after a moment of collection. "Shouldn't I hold it tighter?"

Sasuke shook his head. "If you hold it too tight, you're like a block of ice. Ice is sturdy, but once it gives way, it shatters. You want to be more like water; let yourself move with the impact rather than fight against it. Use the momentum to your advantage. Don't try to stop the hit, try to redirect it."

The woman's pale white forehead scrunched up slightly. "I know the idea; it's central to the Gentle Fist. It's hard to do that with a sword, though. When I use my bare hands, I can feel every bit of every movement, but this sword is like a limb that fell asleep. I know it's there, but it doesn't feel like I can control it. It's not part of me."

Sasuke hummed neutrally. "That's why we're working on it, after all. Are you ready to go again?"

Reluctantly, Hinata clenched her jaw and nodded, ensuring that her hands were tight on the hilt—but not too tight. "Yes, let's try again." As the words left her mouth, Sasuke vanished. Hinata's eyes went wide just as they did before. She couldn't believe the extent of his speed, even in the false world. She felt a clash against her sword and a gust of delayed wind, signifying that Sasuke had once been there. She tried her best to let the impact guide her body, to pretend that the blade itself was a bone in her frame.

It didn't work so well. As she struggled to loosen her grip enough to be malleable, she had overcompensated and upon the first blow she lost her hold entirely. She watched the sword fly out of her hands like a wet bar of soap, and she felt a deep sense of frustration beginning to build within her. This time, when Sasuke stopped his sword just an inch away from striking her nose, she wasn't startled—she was annoyed. "Sasuke, you told me to relax my grip! That's what happens when I don't hold it firmly enough!" She pointed off to the side, where her blade had stuck into the inky ground.

Sasuke blinked twice as he felt some of Hinata's irritation seep into his ears. Her attitude was odd; normally she was eager to learn, but this time she was resisting him rather firmly. "Calm down, Hinata. It's only your first time learning this. There's plenty of time to make mistakes, and plenty of time to correct them." He brought his sword down and tucked it into its sheathe. "Don't get frustrated, or else you're going to lose focus."

Hinata huffed, in a bit of a pouting mood. She felt safe in Sasuke's world, confident that nobody would see her acting this way but him. "Easy for you to say, Sasuke—this stuff comes naturally to you."

The silence of the world was poignant as Sasuke stood still, both arms hanging at his sides. "I had to learn all of the basics one at a time, just like anybody else." His eyebrows ticked a little, as if he realized too late that he had a distinct advantage built right into his eye sockets. Truthfully, he didn't 'learn' things the way others were required to learn. He had simply seen them with his Sharingan and was given perfect insight into how to replicate them. "Well, maybe not quite like anybody else."

Hinata sighed and put her hand on her head, moving impulsively to wipe away a layer of sweat that wasn't there. She sometimes forgot that it didn't form in the second world because she wasn't actually moving, and it wasn't actually warm. "I'm sorry, Sasuke, I know I'm being difficult." She moved to sit down on the ground, another habit she couldn't break despite her muscles feeling no fatigue. "And I really appreciate your help. I just don't think I'm cut out for this kind of fighting style."

Sasuke smirked, closing his eyes and then letting out a little laugh. "Not 'cut' out for it, huh?"

An accidental smile crossed Hinata's face and she blushed behind her curtains of hair. Despite her tiny giggle, she tried to assert her seriousness. "I mean it, though. I don't get why you're so determined to teach me how to use a weapon like that." Her eyes turned toward the sword sticking out of the ground. When it left her hand, it lost its color, but she could still find it amidst the rocky terrain based on its towering vertical profile. "I thought we were going to improve my Gentle Fist, not change it to something totally different."

Sasuke walked over to Hinata's seated self and reached a hand down. Wordlessly, he grabbed her right wrist and tugged her arm. Hinata initially winced, but Sasuke was gentle and she relaxed. He held her arm up and used his other hand to urge her fingers to open up one at a time. As her palm was revealed, the skin looked almost like a pit of lava. Reddened by friction, mangled like it had been cut by a dozen tiny blades. "How did this happen, Hinata?" Sasuke looked at her with a tilted head, as if idly curious.

Hinata didn't feel the pain of her palm within the genjutsu, but she could remember the sensation from being conscious a short time ago. Out there, it still burned when she moved her fingers, but she had opted to ignore it. "It happened last night, when I fought my father."

Her mentor nodded, but he didn't seem satisfied. "I know when it happened, but I'm asking _how_."

Hinata looked at her palm, which was situated against Sasuke's larger hand, and she answered softly. "It happened when I clashed with him. It was his chakra against mine, but I knew I would lose if we met directly in the middle. That's why I split my chakra apart and used it to strike his wrist from the sides. It cut his chakra flow, but not before he did this much damage to my hand." She tried to close her fingers, but Sasuke held her hand in place with a stern protectiveness. "It's not that bad," she insisted timidly.

Sasuke gave a grunt of doubt. "Maybe not, but it could have been worse." He released her hand and she took it back, clutching it near her chest. Sasuke turned his back and looked out over the vast expanse of darkness that vaguely matched the ruins of his home. "I'm proud of your for thinking quickly and taking a gamble that paid off. You won that exchange, but didn't you say that you lost the fight in the end?"

Hinata's mouth slanted into a half-frown, and she turned away from looking at Sasuke's back. She could feel his lecture like it was a physical aura, but she didn't detect any kind of disapproval. It was a lesson, not a scolding. "I lost, but I never really expected to win. I only wanted his respect, and I got it."

Sasuke nodded, keeping his eyes shut and listening to the sound of Hinata's voice. She seemed defensive, as if she were a little bit skeptical of her own answers. "And what about Shell? Did you expect to defeat him?"

Hinata shivered slightly when she thought back to that night. It was still uncomfortably recent in her memory. "N-no, I didn't expect to. I _wanted_ to win, but I felt weak from the start. My chakra was low, too. I wasn't in any condition to beat a man like him."

Another huff came from Sasuke's nose, and he tilted his head to look into the sky. The clouds were like petals from a black rose, each one hovering motionlessly atop an ocean made of cherry syrup. He actively avoided making a comparison to the color to that of blood—he was steering himself gradually away from morbid thoughts altogether. "What did I tell you at the end of our first lesson, Hinata? Do you remember?"

Her head was swimming. Though it had only been a month since they started, there was much more raw time in her memories than that. Each day had been stretched into several, thanks to her master's power to elongate the passage of time in the subconscious. She answered as if in a daze, eyes open to look at her own thoughts. "I remember that you said I was afraid."

Sasuke nodded. "And what did I say you were afraid of?"

The girl clutched her knees in thought. She knew the answer, but she was stubborn about facing it. "You said I was afraid to try my best, because I was scared to find out that even my best might not be enough."

Sasuke smirked. "That's right. And when it came time to fight Shell, did you hold anything back?"

Hinata shook her head quietly. "No, nothing. I tried my hardest."

"Mm, but you failed," Sasuke said with a tone that wasn't quite as mocking as his words would suggest. "Against your father, did you try your hardest?"

She nodded. "I did."

"Yet he still defeated you," Sasuke replied with a casual sigh. "How do you feel about that?

Silence fell again. There was no wind in that realm, no chirping birds or insects. It was terribly lonely when Sasuke closed his mouth and left Hinata in quietude to contemplate the question. The young woman toed the ground with a rubbery sandal, kicking around loose gravel that crunched with a hollow echo. "I feel weak," she admitted. Her knees came up and she rested her forehead against them, hiding her face as if ashamed. "You say I've improved, but does improvement matter if I keep failing anyway? I wanted to win so badly, Sasuke. I wanted to save _myself_ from Shell; I feel useless for making you rescue me...and I wanted to show my father that he couldn't push me around anymore, but he tossed me away like it was easy. I wanted his respect, even though I grew up resenting his harshness." Her thoughts drifted closer to her father. "Is that odd? It's like I can't make up my mind on anything anymore. I've been pulled one way another my whole life by other people, told what do to or what to think, held to standards I always failed to achieve. When Hanabi took my place as the heiress of the clan, I thought it was over—that I'd be free from all the pressure." She took a deep breath of tasteless air. "That's how it was for a while, but stupid me, I started to _miss_ the pressure. I wanted the attention and devotion that used to be given to me as a princess. Neji helped me feel cherished again for a while, but then I lost him too. On top of it all, a few months ago I felt like I lost Naruto. He hasn't had much reason to look at me since he fell for Sakura. That's what the tournament means to me, you know? I don't want to fade away like a puddle in the sun. I want to be recognized again."

Sasuke listened to what she had to say, then he frowned to himself. His voice was soft and understanding. "You've lost a lot, it's true. Do me a personal favor, though, and remember that you've got a lot of people around you who care deeply about you." He turned around, keeping his face stoic. "I know it's true, because I'm one of those people. I agreed to be your teacher because you have steep potential. If I thought you were soft and simpering, I would have told you to leave me alone a long time ago." He looked pointedly to the sword that Hinata was still lightly clutching in her right hand. "Give it everything you've got, no matter how scared you are of failing. We're alone here. Naruto can't see you fall on your face, your father has no way of knowing how many times you'll be pushed back and beaten. It's only me, and you can fail in front of me as many times as it takes, Hinata. Fail with me, learn with me, and eventually we'll have made sure that the next time you put in your best effort, it _will_ be enough." He put up a confident smirk. "And besides all that, you're not allowed to give up yet; you promised me one good day worth of using that thing, so stand back up and give it another try."

Hinata blew a sigh. Sasuke's little pep talk made her feel good inside, but she couldn't shake the latent hesitation in her bones—she could feel it physically, radiating outward from her left hip. "Yes, Sasuke," she answered with firmness in her voice. He had a way of stiffening her up in all sorts of ways, yet causing her to loosen in others. He inspired her to be disciplined, but he made her want to relax as well. He presented his odd contrast of hard and soft, the kind of harshly affectionate personality that made for a good teacher. Perhaps even a good leader. She smiled as she stood up and brandished her sword, reminding herself of its weight. "Sasuke, do you remember what you said when you showed up on the battlefield to help us fight against the Juubi?"

Sasuke watched her as she rose; even in a dreamy world of his own making, her visual beauty complemented the surroundings and made the entire picture more pleasant to behold. He shrugged his shoulders and twirled his own sword. "I said a lot of things that day, Hinata. Not all of them were meant to be remembered."

She pulled up her sword and prepared herself for an onslaught. Her shoulders and wrists were trembling, over-anticipating the incoming barrage from her master. "You said that you wanted to be the Hokage. Is that still true?"

Sasuke paused, his lips parting in slight surprise. She heard him say it, then? She remembered it amidst so many other things that happened? He would have blushed were he not surrounded by his own personally-tailored reality. With the help of his own power of illusion, he remained visually composed. "I've chosen a different path; I'm not meant to be the Hokage."

Hinata spread her feet front and back, balancing her stance and squaring her shoulders. She corrected herself quickly. _No, not so stiff; relax a little. Be water, like Sasuke said._ "So...what are you meant to be?"

 _Yours,_ Sasuke privately, impulsively thought. Over and over again he thought about her, about what she meant to him. Every time he pictured the sum total of her existence, he found himself wanting to be a larger part of it. He had lost control with her so many times already, what would it hurt to tell her what filled his mind? He knew the truth of his hesitation, but didn't confess it. He was afraid of being rejected. Outwardly, he chose a different response altogether. "You've asked that question a lot lately. Do you think my answer's going to change after one day?"

Hinata frowned, shaking her head to rid herself of the train of thought. She had been pestering him, hadn't she? It was easy to get carried away, easy to ignore the fact that Sasuke Uchiha was still quite the mystery to her. She felt so comfortable around him that she couldn't imagine that he was anything but comfortable around her, exactly the same. Yet, he was still hard to crack on certain issues. "Forget it, then. Let's get back to work."

Sasuke nodded. He rushed toward her again with his blade out front. He intentionally raised his speed to the point of being a blur, assaulting Hinata's own sword from multiple angles in quick succession. Though fast, he pulled the weight of his blows and kept them manageable. He struck the dirty length of steel and felt it give a slight turn. "Good," Sasuke said invisibly, so speedy that his voice came from two directions at once. "Just like that." He struck the blade again; his sword slid along the length of Hinata's, gliding over what felt like a lump of slippery, semi-hardened clay. Just firm enough to slow his momentum, but not so stiff as to allow itself to be broken. It bent, rather than snapped.

Hinata felt the difference, too. The flow was beginning to resonate within her muscles. She could sense a rhythm in Sasuke's movements, a gentle tick like a metronome with an uneven but patterned tempo. Her feet stepped back as if unconsciously while her arms tilted to redirect Sasuke's testing assault. He hadn't slowed down, nor had he grown softer. She congratulated herself on finding the balance he spoke of, and his spoken praise made her smile like was given a pat on the head. _Maybe it's not so hard after all,_ she caught herself considering. Just then, as if it were intended to be an instant reality check, Sasuke's pattern switched abruptly and he slashed down vertically across a horizontally-tilted sword. Hinata's grip was jarringly disrupted and she was quickly disarmed. She yelped in surprise and lifted her hands as if to surrender.

Sasuke had a smile on his face when he slowed down and came back into focus. "You're getting better already, but don't go complacent. Find the pattern, but don't enslave yourself to it. If you get too comfortable, your opponent will know it. Once you started to follow my pattern, you started thinking you were one step ahead, and then I had you beaten. Be wary of falling into a trap of repetition; combat is about thinking _two_ steps ahead, not just one."

Hinata nodded her head, taking the vague lesson with as much enthusiasm as she could. "Right, I understand." She started to reach for her sword, only to find it clutched in her fingers once again without her involvement. She froze and ceased her breath for half a second. "I wish you wouldn't do that," she puffed out with some discomfort. "It feels bizarre."

Sasuke turned his head, practically pouting at the notion. "I'm just making it easier for you," he said with some defensiveness. "What's wrong with that?"

She closed her eyes and creased her lips into a gentle curve, just enough to be called a smile. "If you keep doing it for me, I'll never get used to doing it on my own." She looked at him with a playful defiance. "You can't pick it up for me all the time."

She had a point, and Sasuke realized that he was being overbearing. That didn't prevent him from teasing her some. "Why can't I?" He asked coyly, tossing his sword up and down in one hand, spinning it around and catching it at different angles. "I thought you missed being treated like a princess. That's what you said, isn't it?"

Hinata blushed and dropped the sword to the ground again. Her arms were clasped behind her back bashfully. "I wouldn't say I'm a princess anymore; not exactly..." She felt Sasuke's eyes on her, and with nothing to hide behind she just tried to squeeze herself together and make herself as small as possible. Technically she was still a noble, despite the fact that she was passed over as the heir. Being second in line rather than first was no hindrance to her general status. Technically or not, she felt herself grow warmer when Sasuke referred to her as a princess. For all the oddities of the genjutsu, she was still capable of flustering herself fiercely.

Sasuke lowered his voice and tilted his head forward to make sultry eye contact, enjoying his moment of advantage. "Like it or not, you're the princess of this place." He cast his hand aside, gesturing to the blackened landscape that mimicked the Uchiha District in all directions but had none of its detailed features. Wooden and metal signs which used to reveal the past were made blank by the dark. "For what it's worth, anyhow."

Hinata found herself speechless and resented herself for it. She looked down to her feet, standing on rubble that wasn't real, but which represented something genuine. If she searched, she could find every real pebble's false doppelganger within that place. But which place had she been called the 'princess' of? The real one, or the imagined one? Instead of asking the question, she clammed up and nervously rubbed the back of her head. She was scratching an itch that was as pretend as all the rest of it. "C-can we take a break, Sasuke? I'm starting to feel light-headed." It was an excuse that had worked before. Whether Sasuke believed her or not, he wouldn't refuse her request.

As expected, Sasuke smiled a toothy smile and nodded his head. "Sure. We've been in here long enough." With a widening of his left eye, he promptly dispelled the genjutsu. Like a balloon made of the contours of an entire village, the illusion popped. With suddenness, the sun was yellow, the sky was blue, and the wind began to blow as if it had never stopped. The transition was jarring, and when Hinata opened her real eyes again she found herself disoriented, standing in a completely different place than she had been a moment before. She nearly lost her balance, but she had gotten used to the shifting process of journeying between the 'worlds' over the past weeks of utilizing the technique. Though it was still mildly disorienting, it was not as catastrophic as it once was.

The taste of true air filled Hinata's lungs and seemed wet with humidity compared to the previous breath. She dropped onto one knee and let out a soft gasp of exertion. Though Sasuke did everything he could to lessen the mental strain, there was always a side-effect to such a prolonged experience with unreality. She shook her head and let her hair fluff out somewhat, then looked up to Sasuke with a steadying blink. He didn't look winded at all, especially compared to her. "You're really incredible, Sasuke," she mused out loud.

Sasuke lifted one brow, pondering her observation. "Where'd that come from?"

She shrugged her slender shoulders, reaching a hand up to clasp the upper left of her arm. Returning to the physical world had reminded her that her wounds, while mostly healed, still had residual stiffness. She squeezed the tender spot on her shoulder where her father had impacted twice, though while clutching that spot she agitated the scrapes and burns on her right palm. She winced involuntarily and pursed her lips. She spoke through the negligible irritation. "Well, for me it takes a lot of energy just to endure that genjutsu. But for you, even though you're the one who shapes the world and maintains it with your own chakra, it seems easy. It's hard for me to imagine being so powerful, is all."

Sasuke smirked with cockiness, folding his arms together and clutching his elbows with each hand. "It's second nature to me, Hinata. I've been practicing my genjutsu for years." He thought back to Itachi's Tsukuyomi, the technique that inspired his own manipulation of space and time within the mind. "Besides, I've endured things that are a lot worse than what I've showed you."

Hinata noted a downturn in Sasuke's visage, then she dropped back to sit where she had been kneeling. She folded her legs and rested her hands on her knees. "Did the pain make you stronger?"

Sasuke hesitated, but then he nodded. "Over time, it did. To start with, it put me in a coma." He smirked with dark humor, remembering how pathetic he used to be compared to Itachi. _I wonder what he would think of me, now. And what about father? Just when we were starting to get along, he..._ Sasuke shook his head clean. "Anyway, once I recovered from the damage, it helped me learn a lot more about the Sharingan. There's no better teacher than experience."

Hinata quirked her head, tucking hair behind her ear with dainty white fingers. "I remember what you told me before, about your brother's Tsukuyomi." She looked to the ground, picking out colors of gray, white, red, and blue with her weary eyes. "My sensei, Kurenai, told me about Itachi Uchiha once, too. She encountered him several years ago, just after we lost Lord Third."

Sasuke said nothing in response. Anything he could say would have probably been a mistake, but he was playing with the idea of telling her the truth. Unfortunately, some of Itachi's actions in the village were in direct opposition to Sasuke's memory of the elder brother he loved. And of course there was no easy explanation for the slaughter of his family, either. Even though Sasuke understood the reasoning, he still sometimes resented Itachi for going through with it.

Hinata continued through Sasuke's silence, wary of his reaction. Thus far, he was listening without a frown. "She told me that she tried to use a powerful genjutsu on him, but he reversed it like it was nothing. She said that nobody had ever done that so easily before, and that nobody had done it since. Even though he was our enemy, I think Kurenai-sensei respected him." And Hinata hadn't forgotten Naruto's slip-up at dinner, either. Why would Itachi be on a list of his inspirations? She looked at Sasuke and hummed. "Do you know why he did it?"

Sasuke played ignorant, pretending to be annoyed when in truth he was nervous. She must have known something was suspicious, so why didn't he just come out and tell her? "Why he did what?" His reply was pointed and stiff.

His curt tone made Hinata feel like she was being nosy, and it's probably because she was. "N-nevermind, I'm sorry to bring it up again."

The survivor of the Uchiha Clan had long ago made peace with the fall of his kin. Sometimes he wished for their return, but the pain was no longer sharp. It had become dull, and it sometimes throbbed, but it had been so many years that even the sight of the crumbled ruins could not force a tear out of his eye. "Don't be sorry. How many times do I have to tell you to stop apologizing to me?" He reached into a pouch dangling from the rear of his hip, and from within he produced a canteen of water. "It's fine to be curious, since there's a lot I haven't told you yet." He threw the water to Hinata.

She caught it with one hand, then popped off the top and took a guzzle. She was careful not to let any of it run down her chin while she drank; it was a limited supply and the nearest stream was inconveniently distant. Furthermore, she didn't like making trips in and out of the village over the cliffside while she was supposed to be training. With a satisfied gasp and a toss to return the canteen, she wiped her lips gently with the back of her sleeve. "It's fair, then, since you don't know everything about me either."

"Like why you're so opposed to using a sword?" Sasuke brought it up as he sat down just a pace or two beside Hinata. She had stumbled upon some shade, and he joined her in it. The morning was early, but the sun was already hot.

Hinata felt like she had been caught. "W-well, it's just something I'm not used to." She looked to the blade in the dusty debris nearby. It was on its side, resting casually despite its sharp, lethal blade's exposure. It was as if the sword had no idea that it was an instrument designed specifically for killing.

Sasuke shook his head. "No, I think it's more than that. When I showed you the blade, you had an odd look on your face. It wasn't just the look I'd expect from somebody who's nervous about trying something new."

Hinata looked over to him from behind a loose set of deep blue strands. "What do you mean? What kind of look would you call it?"

"I've seen the same look on your face once before, when we were eating together for the first time." He looked over to her, his eyes falling down the swells and slopes of her feminine frame. He wasn't lecherously devouring her features, though; he looked toward her lower left side. "You made that same expression when I mentioned Pain; it looked like you were hurt. What happened to you back then, Hinata?"

Hinata then understood how Sasuke must have felt when she asked difficult questions, because every nerve in her body fired at once and reminded her of every painful experience she had ever had. Her side seemed to hurt the most, though the wound was forever-ago healed. A small scar still remained, visible when she looked at herself in the mirror after a shower. It was hard to forget something as terrifying as it was. "I got hurt," she said sheepishly, her left hand falling down to clutch her old scar. "It happened years ago, but I still feel it sometimes when I think about it. It got worse when I saw the sword; the one you gave me is so dirty and grimy that it's almost black." She closed her eyes and pictured the weapon in Pain's hand as it was driven down into her body. She seized up momentarily when she imagined the piercing of her flesh, but she relaxed a moment later. "It's a lot like what he used to stab me," she whispered. "I know that pain...I don't want to inflict it on anybody else."

Sasuke felt angry at the thought, particularly when he saw the tension in Hinata's posture. A part of him wished that the entity called Pain was still alive, just so he could track the villain down and obtain vengeance for Hinata's sake. In absence of that possibility, he sought to comfort her with his own experience. "I know how you feel," Sasuke said after a heartbeat of contemplative quiet. "I've been through the same thing."

Hinata blinked, looking at Sasuke like she thought he was lying to make her feel better. "The same thing?"

He nodded to her. "That's right," he said. He brought a hand up to the buttons on his vest-like shirt, pulling it apart at the neckline and working down to his chest. The sudden reveal of his firm upper body made Hinata eek and look away, covering her mouth and furiously turning red. Sasuke paused for a second and chuckled openly, pulling his shirt further aside to reveal a spot over his heart. "Look here, Hinata," he murmured disarmingly.

She took several deep breaths to keep herself conscious, then turned as slow as the minute hand on a wristwatch to eventually peer at Sasuke's partially-unveiled chest. She couldn't resist admiring his physique; he was definitely a young man who kept himself in shape. There was a lot of strength packed into those relatively slender muscles. When she finished admiring him, her sight fell directly over his heart; there was a rough patch of flesh that didn't match its surroundings. It was less like a scar from a wound, and more like a skin graft that didn't perfectly mesh with its host. She lifted a timid hand, curiously considering touching it. To her embarrassed pleasure, Sasuke held her by the wrist gingerly and pulled her fingers to brush over the spot. It was rough, almost like tree bark, compared to the soft skin that surrounded it. "It's strange," she said without thinking.

Feeling Hinata's fingers on the patch of mended flesh made Sasuke's heartbeat increase noticeably. He hoped she wouldn't feel the thumping through the thickened graft, because he hated to seem like he was nervous. It was in his blood to stay calm, but she made his blood run so fast that it was tough for it to act right. "It happened during the war," he began to explain. "I tried to confront Madara alone, and it...well, it didn't go according to plan." He pulled Hinata's hand flat against his chest, ignoring his hesitation and allowing her to feel his quickened heartbeat with her entire palm. "I'd be dead if not for Kabuto's help." _And Kabuto wouldn't have helped me if not for Itachi,_ he reminded himself. It was difficult to tally Itachi's sins versus his goodness. Maybe that's why Sasuke still hadn't told Hinata the truth; he was still trying to sort it out for himself.

Hinata smiled and clutched her fingers softly around Sasuke's war wound. She felt the tense resistance of his muscle beneath, and the way he moved and trembled ever so slightly under her caress provided a special kind of delight. "And we'd all still be trapped in an eternal dream if not for you," she reminded him. Though she hadn't been there to witness the battle, she knew the story well enough.

Sasuke's eyes closed. "Sure, but I still owe this world a lot more than that."

Hinata shook her head. "No, I think you've paid your debt." She scooted closer to him, keeping her hand on his chest and leaning her head against his shoulder. "You don't owe anything else; you should only give what you want to give."

Sasuke didn't protest to her head against his shoulder, and his arm slipped across the plane of her upper back to brace her nearer to him. "If only the rest of the world felt that way," he grumbled under his breath. "The owner of an old candy shop mistook me for Pain when I first came back to the village. That's the sort of reputation I have."

Hinata frowned, but then she took her hand off Sasuke's chest to brush his hair out of the way of his left eye. His Rinnegan was still active from his use of genjutsu, and Hinata looked directly into its rounded pattern as if to study it. "I don't mean anything by it, but your eye does look a lot like his did."

Sasuke huffed and closed his lids, then a moment later he opened them to reveal plain black irises. "There's no denying the similarity, is there? I don't blame people for being skeptical, you know that. I appreciate you, Hinata; you accept me as I am, rather than as I was. Your sister, too; she's been surprisingly kind." He recalled his brief confrontations with Kiba, both at the wedding reception and at the Inuzuka Clan's residence. "I've been difficult to get along with sometimes, though."

"Hanabi's very friendly, as long as you don't make her angry." Hinata smiled optimistically. "For the others, it's like you told me before: don't give up. You'll figure it out."

"I hope this tournament goes well," Sasuke wished aloud. "For both of us."

Hinata nodded, then caught herself wanting to take another nap against Sasuke's shoulder. Shaking herself out of that comfort zone, she jolted upright and pulled away from him. Determination sparked in her eyes. "That's right. And it can only go well if we prepare ourselves for it, so I'd like to get back to training, if that's alright with you."

The smirk on Sasuke's face was a proud one. His pupil was mighty enthusiastic compared to before. Maybe she was glad to get some of her thoughts off her chest, or maybe she just wanted to know a little bit more about him and had been momentarily satisfied. In any case, Sasuke stood up and agreed, drawing his weapon to encourage her readiness. "Let's test your skill in reality, then."

Hinata moved to pick up her dirty blade and then pointed it toward Sasuke, though not in a particularly threatening way. "I'll make the first move," she declared with fresh self esteem. Sasuke didn't protest, so Hinata rushed toward him and began to swing somewhat wildly. She slashed left and right, crashing her sword into Sasuke's own and getting a hands-on demonstration of his defensive finesse. When she collided with his blade, she felt almost nothing to resist her. He so effortlessly deflected her that it felt like her own miss, rather than a parry. Again and again, she swiped and stabbed and twirled, but other than the high pitched shriek of steel on steel, there was little proof that she was making contact at all.

Sasuke played along with her erratic swipes, allowing her to develop the use of certain muscles that only came into play during weapon usage. He humored her sloppy strikes with a delicate parry, sending her swings from one side or the other and allowing her to recover and try again. He began to take advantage of the relatively lazy pace, tossing his sword from one hand to the other in order to get used to having both arms available again. The replacement would be for nothing if he didn't retrain himself to utilize both limbs equally again. As his recently-attached arm took hold of the sword and raised it in an effort to deflect one of Hinata's blows, he suddenly felt a sharp pain that was much like a cramp. It started in the fingertips, traveled down the tendons in his wrist, then finally took hold in force along his elbow. Instantaneously, his limb was robbed of movement and he let out a surprised groan of hurt. He felt paralyzed from head to toe, in a concerning reminder of his whole-body stiffness during the previous night's photo session. In that moment, before Sasuke could recover from the sudden agony, Hinata didn't realize what had happened, and one of her errant swings brought the tip of her sword cleanly across the front of Sasuke's chin.

The blade cut into his flesh from one side to the other, and although the wound was shallow it quickly turned red and began to leak a visible trickle of blood. Hinata gasped and dropped the sword a second later, letting it skid across the ground. She rushed forward to touch Sasuke's cheek, panic in her eyes. "Oh, Sasuke! I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you...are you alright?" She reached into her own hip pouch and produced a small handkerchief, quickly reaching to dab the blood from her teacher's chin and neck.

Sasuke raised his right hand and stopped her from touching his blood with her white cloth, smirking without much worry. "I'm alright, Hinata; there's just a kink I still need to work out." Carefully, he relaxed his left arm until the muscle became responsive again, then slowly released his grip on his sword until it fell harmlessly. The awkward contortions of his elbow bothered him; if the muscles had experienced a spasm that went in a different direction, he might have accidentally hurt Hinata rather than being the victim himself. All in all, a little slice across the chin was far from the worst that could have happened. "Don't get blood all over yourself for my sake," he casually hummed while setting his hand on her shoulder and urging her to step backward from him. "Besides, if you didn't mean to hurt me, that means you're still holding something back."

Hinata frowned deeper. It clearly wasn't a serious injury, but the fact that she had caused Sasuke to lose blood was an uncomfortable truth. "But what happened? I've never even come close to hitting you before."

Sasuke looked to his new arm, testing each finger and flexing at the elbow. The cramp seemed to have passed, but he knew that the difficulties weren't over yet. "Like I told you, it's just a kink. Sometimes this new piece doesn't want to play nice with me."

"Is it supposed to be like that?" Hinata asked, taking a step back to give him some space while he recovered from his malfunction. "Do you want me to get a medic for you?"

Sasuke shook his head, keeping his easy smirk. "It's nothing serious. Sakura warned me that there might be some trouble at first, but it should go away within a few days."

Hinata looked more concerned than Sasuke did by a long shot. She peered down at her dropped sword and noted the blood along its tip. The image made her shiver, although there was little more than a speck of redness. "Is it safe to keep training like this?"

Sasuke sighed softly, testing the flexibility of his bandaged left arm one last time to ensure that it was stretched and ready to use properly. "Safe or not, it's necessary. I need you to help me adjust to this arm just like you want me to help make you stronger. It's a fair trade." He leaned down and grabbed his sword with the unreliable hand.

Hinata moved to fetch her own blade, but just like in the genjutsu world, the hilt suddenly appeared in her hand and she instinctively clutched her fingers around it with a gasp. Even in reality, Sasuke had a way of making her doubt her own senses. "H-how did you—" She cut herself off, recalling the night before. Sasuke had somehow summoned her into the tree from the street below, and she assumed that it had something to do with his eye. Again, she marveled at the extent of his abilities. Was there anything he _couldn't_ do? Rather than gawk at his versatile technique, Hinata huffed playfully. "I thought I told you to stop that," she tried to be coy, but she came off as awestruck.

Sasuke leaned his head confidently to one side, then muttered an affectionate tease. "You might as well get used to it, Princess." He winked at her and held his blade at the ready. "We've still got a lot of work to do."

"As you say, Master." Hinata sought to match his use of an unwanted title with an equal trade, but this time it seemed like Sasuke didn't mind hearing it. Instead of deterring her use of the moniker, he smirked and gave her a prepared nod.

Abruptly, Sasuke and Hinata ran toward one another, meeting at center field and clashing swords with a show of sparks. Hinata, it seemed, was beginning to appreciate the sensation of wielding Sasuke's gift to her.

* * *

 **I hope you liked it! Thanks for reading. Soon there will be a soft time shift forward, so the festival is pretty close. After that, it's going to be tournament time. I hope you like what's coming up. Thanks again for reading.**


	44. Blunted

**Sorry about the wait. Explanation at the bottom. Enjoy!**

* * *

Hanabi Hyuuga was out of breath and couldn't see out of one eye. Her feet were scuffed and sore against the rough training mat beneath her. Although every fiber of herself begged to relax, she could not afford to take a moment of calm breath. If she hesitated or held back for even a moment, she might very well be killed. Her body acted involuntarily, flexing and swerving like a river navigating between the rocks of a narrow canyon. She could feel the trembling of the air as it shook and exploded around her ears. Each step added a small drop of blood to the mat, smeared unconsciously by a calloused heel to create a painted record of her movements. Without exception, those movements were backward. She could make no progress against her opponent, and she could only blame herself.

After an especially narrow miss on her blind side, she stuttered and bit her lower lip, feeling the tension of life or death. She was hungry and thirsty, but her enemy refused to grant nourishment until she could force him to. Every time she aimed for his sneering face, she felt her wrist knocked aside by a brick of bone and muscle. She felt like a leaf that was fighting a hurricane, folding and spinning in admirable defiance but ultimately having no say in where she ended up. Another blow, one of a hundred that day, smashed into her chest without resistance, and finally she was launched off her feet. Her limit had finally been reached, and she felt the mat slam against her back to knock all the precious air from her lungs. Silence fell, and she was unsure if there was silence in truth or if she had finally gone deaf from the beating. It was worse than ever before. She coughed, and although she assumed there would be blood, she wiped her lip with the back of her hand and found nothing red on her skin.

Her blurry view of the ceiling was shadowed by a massive hand, one which looked ready to squeeze her face and crush it like a grape. Thankfully, the hand was her father's, and he used it to grasp her beneath the shoulder and hoist her into a sitting position. Upright, but with her rear still stubbornly stuck to the training mat, she coughed again and aggressively wiped her eyes. At least, she cleared the stinging sweat from her left socket and was able to force her lid to open. Blurry, but still functional. She looked up to see her father's silhouette, arms folded disapprovingly. She knew it was coming; it had been _her_ idea to increase the intensity of her training in such a way, but it had not gone as she hoped it would.

"You are strong, Hanabi," Hiashi began after tightening the cloth that wrapped his left hand. "Stronger than many of the elite shinobi belonging to this village."

"But not strong _enough_ ," Hanabi managed to spit words through a swollen throat, gagging on her own resentment. How much had her arrogance cost over the years? She had been riding on the approval of her father since the moment she became the heiress, and she had always been ingrained with the idea that her blood was superior to Hinata's. And since the Hyuuga bloodline was the most powerful one in the village, as told to her by her father and the other clan elders, that meant that she was destined to become the strongest shinobi in the entire village one day. She peered at her father with swollen, squinted eyes. "I'm not supposed to get beaten," she murmured as she forced herself to stand. She wiped unruly hair away from her face and clenched her teeth. "Not even by you."

Hiashi sighed and closed his eyes. His expression stayed craggy and unpleasant, but there was a softness in his breath. "You will surpass me given time, Hanabi. Such is the destiny of every generation of the Hyuuga Clan. Each child is fated to become stronger than their parent...eventually." He peered down at her with his milky Byakugan and frowned. "But you cannot rush your progress."

"I also can't afford to lose to her," Hanabi said with a rare inflection of bitterness. She peered to Hiashi's left hand, the one which Hinata had successfully disabled on the previous night. It was wrapped in bandages, and although it had regained its mobility, the visible damage still lingered. "You said yourself that I can't possibly beat her like I am now. I'm only 'like I am now' because we've been training for years already, father; if I can't beat her after all that, what good is one more month of the same going to do? I need you to push me harder than ever."

Hiashi frowned a little further. He recognized the truth in his daughter's concern, but also the depths that she could not perceive. Hinata's new strength couldn't have possibly been the result of simply exercising herself more vigorously. There was a fundamental change, one that had been laid at the very foundation of her training. She carried a brand new level of finesse and composure that gave even Hiashi himself, the head of the clan, a modicum of trouble. On top of that, there was the matter of her new jutsu; it had properties unlike anything the clan had ever seen. Hinata had always been fairly skilled at controlling her chakra, as evidenced by her frequent experimentation with the Twin Lion Fists, but to add an elemental nature to the Gentle Fist was unheard of. "Hanabi, I have to reluctantly admit that you are right. Our ordinary regimen is unfit to prepare you against her current technique, but there is a way to nullify her most important advantage."

"Her most important advantage?" Hanabi loosened her posture and lowered her hands; the look in his eyes and the flex of his wounded hand signified that he meant the lightning. "You mean _that_...? But how can I nullify it if even you couldn't do it?"

Hiashi looked to his bandages. His fingers still protested slightly to being moved; their skin burned and throbbed with every bit of compression and friction he imposed upon them. To a shinobi, however, it was nothing to be concerned about. "Though it is powerful, it has a basic weakness. Let me show you how to exploit that weakness."

Hanabi pursed her lips and nodded. Her body was torn to shreds inside and out, but she had the same determination as her sister. Neither sibling was willing to accept being surpassed by the other. Idly, Hanabi wondered if that same sense of rivalry was what allowed Naruto and Sasuke to become so strong together. Hanabi was tense and ready to fight again, but Hiashi relaxed his arms and moved to sit down.

"Rest, Hanabi. I have pushed you too hard already." He folded his legs with his knees out to either side, then he rested his hands on his thighs calmly. "This lesson is a mental one, not a test of strength. Breathe all the way to your center, exhale into the emptiness, and visualize Hinata's technique. You saw its formation from beginning to end. Think about its composure, its precision. Envision its powerful light and its effective results."

Hanabi complied with her father's request even though it hurt like hell to bend her knees and sit down. She caught a glimpse of the bottoms of her own feet and winced at the sight of her mangled soles. Perhaps she had been going about it the wrong way after all. "Yes, father," she hesitantly whispered. All she could see in her mind's eye was Hinata's smiling face; the gentle eyes of a merciful person. It made no sense for her to have become so strong so quickly. Hanabi's peace was interrupted by her own jealousy. _This is all Sasuke's fault,_ she rationalized. _This was supposed to be my chance for glory, not hers. I'm the strong sister; she's supposed to be the shy, fragile one._ Hanabi used to look up to Hinata's resolve, but that was before she became a threat. It was all fun and games until the high voltage came out.

Hiashi was steady. "Can you see it now?"

Hanabi filled her lungs in a rehearsed manner, calming her heart and soul and then opening her dry mouth. "Yes, father."

"And do you realize its flaw?" Hiashi coaxed her along.

While picturing every aspect of Hinata's ability, Hanabi scrunched her face and focused on the sweat beading down her forehead and neck. She could feel it running down her arms, over her palms, and between her fingers. Then her eyelids parted with clarity and her mouth turned to a knowing smirk. "...Yes, father. I think I see what you mean."

Hiashi gave a nod of assertion. "Good. Our lesson for the day is done; sleep on what you've learned tonight. I will see you in the morning." He didn't stand up; it was Hanabi who was meant to leave.

The youngest daughter blinked once. _That's it?_ She asked herself in her head, pursing her lips doubtfully. "Very well, father." She cleared her head of serious thoughts and turned to leave the room without another word.

"Hanabi," came Hiashi's gruff call for attention, reaching the teen at the last moment before she closed the door behind her. Silence followed for a moment while the girl turned to look at him with a lump in her throat. The pair locked eyes across the room; Hiashi was imposingly seated on his training mat, and Hanabi's especially-slender stature was accented by the hugeness of the door; it enveloped her like she was a photograph in a frame that was several times too large. Hiashi beheld her bruised and limping shape and he frowned, knowing after the fact that he was the one who did it to her. Perhaps he was too harsh, whether she asked for it or not. "Days ago, you spoke of attending the upcoming festival with your sister."

Hanabi nodded reluctantly, but her pale eyes had a glimmer of hopefulness. "That's right; you told me no, since it would hinder my progress too much if I took a day off." She nibbled her tongue within her mouth. "Are you changing your mind?"

Hiashi hated to overturn his own orders, but something about his daughters had begun to soften him up. With a potential disaster looming around every corner, over every horizon, he thought back to the war; to those who were lost. He closed his eyes so that Hanabi would not see him falter, and he felt a puffiness in his throat as he remembered Neji. Shrugging it off as a sigh of hesitation, he spoke under his breath. "Yes; I'll give you one day to enjoy the festival. If the leisure makes you weak, then your failure in combat will be punishment enough."

Hanabi grinned like Hinata had grinned the night before, then clasped her hands behind her back and gave a dutiful bow of appreciation. "Thank you very much, father! I'll let Hinata know as soon as I see her!" She turned and darted out of the room before she could see the solemn expression left on her father's face.

Hiashi basked in the happiness of the young girl who shared his eyes and her mother's soft complexion. He thought of Hinata, too. Happiness was so easy to give, temporarily, but Hiashi knew that there was always a price to pay for a smile. He was not naïve, like so many others. Not like the Hokage, nor the famous hero of the war, Naruto Uzumaki. Those two, they were dreamers; idealists. Despite Kakashi Hatake's track record of making decisions based on rationality and careful reasoning, there were several blind-spots in his perception. Unlike Kakashi, though, Hiashi's legendary vision saw everything—above all, he could see that there were evils in the world that yet disguised themselves as allies. He did not know how many, and he did not know when they would next strike, but he had not been numbed by peace. He still understood who and _how_ to hate.

Though years had passed and fences had been mended, there was no erasing the sacrifices of the past. Hiashi stood up, squared his shoulders, and focused on the smoothness of his breaths as they came in and out of his lungs. The flickering candles had nearly expended their wax for the night, but there was still light; still time to reflect. He cast a solid fist to his right side, sending off a massive hurl of wind. He felt the snap of a sonic boom against his knuckles and heard its echo in his ear a small fraction of a second later. He repeated the process with his left hand, delighting in the synchronization of movement, pain, and sound. Each came with a small delay, one so small that most would mistakenly believe that they all happened at the same time. Hiashi knew better, though; he could single out the cause and effect. He knew which came first and who was to blame for it all.

In this case, his fist was the culprit. It moved with such speed and pressure that the air was forced to compress, growing faster and hotter until it exploded into the vacuum left behind by his ever-moving hand. The sound was small, and the force only lightly rattled the walls and ceiling, but it was intentionally restrained. Hiashi knew how to hold back, and sometimes it got him into trouble. He had spent too much time toying with Hinata; his curiosity about her new technique had given her an opening which she ably exploited. He could have stopped her, _should_ have stopped her, didn't stop her. It was a test indeed, but also a concession. He allowed her to feel good about herself, to remember that she had as much of his blood as her sister did. They were both destined for greatness.

That thought brought another scowl into Hiashi's visibly-strained forehead. His brows quaked with anger, finally releasing his frustration in an empty room. He thrashed his arms about, sending enormous avalanches of air from one side to the other, easily extinguishing the candles that dotted the walls at shoulder height. The smell of freshly-snuffed wicks reached his sensitive nose, and he inhaled deeply. He allowed the wisps of smoke to settle in his lungs before calmly exhaling. It was dark, inside and outside. He had come to like it that way.

He held his distrust close to his vest, but when he was alone with his own mind, he was able to strike as many imaginary opponents as he liked. Though he hit nothing but air, the resulting snaps of pressure called to mind broken bones. He imagined collapsed ribs, dislocated shoulders, and shattered phalanges. Each grievous wound had been delivered by his own hands, and he yearned for the day that he could deliver true vengeance. Years had passed, but time had only scabbed the wound, not healed it. There was an ugly scar left behind, and it still caused him pain upon waking and upon falling asleep. It was like a dream that lingered a bit too long into the waking realm; a phantom that he could not banish. Not so long as its true-world counterpart still remained.

And it was a large phantom indeed, a literal fortress that loomed hundreds of miles away. It was marked by conical spires and lofty white puffs of vapor. Each time it rained, Hiashi could see them whether his eyes were opened or closed. They were the cause of his misery; his constant ache. Long before Neji was taken by evil, the boy's father, Hizashi, was taken by greed. He was taken by a group of shinobi with a thirst for secrets that did not belong to them. He was killed for his Byakugan, just like Hinata had nearly been kidnapped for hers.

Hiashi was not a forgiving man. Regardless of the Hokage, regardless of Naruto, regardless of the deceptive notion of _peace_ , he demanded his chance to deal a blow to his enemy. He wanted to see the Village Hidden in the Clouds forced to suffer by the hands of a Hyuuga. His own hands were calloused; arthritic with the desire to cause harm. The ache refused to vanish.

He wanted and _needed_ to exact his revenge, but although he harbored phenomenal rage, he was no fool. He would never defy the Hokage, and he would never betray the good faith of the Cloud, faith that came during and after the Fourth War. They were slowly earning his tolerance, but not his respect; _never_ respect. He would not be the one to break the treaty that ended the hostilities between the Five Great Nations, but once the Cloud showed its true colors, he would be the first shinobi in line to deal a crippling blow to its leadership.

With this in mind, Hiashi had a bad feeling about the upcoming tournament and the events of recent weeks. Although the Hokage had explicitly confirmed to him that the men who attacked Hanabi were affiliated with the Leaf, Hiashi suspected additional involvement. Furthermore, Hinata's attackers were never properly identified. It reeked of subterfuge. It was highly possible that an agent working for the Cloud had renewed the hunt for the Byakugan, taking advantage of relaxed border control and more flexible international trade agreements. Perhaps that unease was what nagged the back of his mind; what compelled him to satisfy his daughters' requests. He wanted to see them smile before the monsters surfaced again.

With a practice blow that lashed enough air to flutter the heavy rubber mat under his feet, Hiashi resolved to punish anyone who was brave or _foolish_ enough to threaten _either_ of his daughters as long as he lived.

* * *

Hinata and Sasuke were still hard at work, this time in the physical world. The clumsy, reactionary movements of the morning were a thing of the past, as Hinata deftly took to her master's instruction and became quite able to follow the patterns of his assault. She was even beginning to perceive his faster-than-sight movement, though she suspected that he was allowing her to do so. Either way, she was glad that Sasuke was able to talk her into giving him one day for training. Her hands felt light and independent, as if she could move them however was necessary. The sword no longer had any weight in her mind's eye; it was just as integrated as a shoe or a finger; it had been added to the total of her physique. It was not a burden.

The night had come, but the training was still lit by both starlight and sparks. The moon was hazy behind a sheet of clouds, but there was enough glow in the air to seem magical as it lit the ruins. Although Hinata was giving ground to Sasuke's flurried attacks, she was not stumbling. Her grip was not faltering. She had found the balance between stiff and fluid, courtesy of hours upon hours spent in the genjutsu world refining her stance and finger positions. She was thirsty and hungry, but she did not want to stop. She could feel her body adapting to everything, bit by bit, and it was an almost ecstatic sensation that she was growing addicted to. _Is this how Naruto feels when he trains himself beyond his limits?_ She asked the question idly in her head, but the thought of Naruto brought out a sense of guilt that lasted for only a brief second.

Sasuke wholly abused the opening caused by the moment's hesitation, and he abruptly disarmed her with a twirl of his blade against hers; the motion forced Hinata's grip to loosen, which allowed Sasuke's expert hand to tilt and exert at exactly the right ratios, shoving the sword from Hinata's fingers and forcing her balance to decay until she fell flat on her backside. It happened so quickly that Hinata had no idea how she landed on her rear, but she felt the dull pain against her tailbone, which she began to rub bashfully. "Sorry, I got distracted," she said before he had the chance to call out her lack of attention.

The imposing Uchiha was surprisingly understanding: "You don't have to apologize. After all, you gave me an easy opening; I should thank you for losing focus."

Hinata blushed with a smile, tucking hair in front of her face to avoid the comfortable gaze that fell on her. Sasuke was getting used to looking at her, and she was getting used to being looked at...still, that didn't mean she was anything other than paralyzed every time she felt him admiring her features. "You don't need an opening; I know how skilled you are." She looked into the dark night, scanning for where her sword had gone. She couldn't find it until she activated her Byakugan, but even when she saw it, she didn't reach for it. Her hand sat open in her lap as if awaiting the sword's appearance in her grip. When that didn't happen, Hinata peered up at Sasuke and hummed. "You didn't put it in my hand for me this time," she observed. It wasn't a complaint, just a statement. She wasn't sure how she felt about it, either.

"That's because we're done for the night," Sasuke said back to her. Then, teasing her with a smirk and a chuckle, he opened his left eye and abruptly teleported the sword's handgrip into Hinata's holding fingers. Over time, he had gotten quite accustomed to his eye's unique ability to relocate objects and people at will; he was beginning to wonder if he was using his immense power a bit too lightly. The dilemma was put to bed quickly: _I'm the only living Uchiha; I get to decide what these eyes mean, both to myself and to others. If I want to use them like this, then that's what I'll do._ He concluded that as long as it was an Uchiha, and not some pretender, it was alright to have fun with the awe-inspiring power of his clan.

Hinata was amused, though she pretended to fuss. "I could have gotten it!" she yelped, immediately pointing the sword's tip toward Sasuke in a not-really-threatening, limp-wristed kind of way. "One of these days I'm going to poke you with this thing, and it's going to hurt." A terrifying threat.

Sasuke neglected to point to his chin. It had been shallowly wounded at the beginning of the day, but it had already healed to completion and left no marks behind. "Yeah, well, save it for tomorrow. It's dark and you're tired."

Hinata huffed and stood up, crossing her arms while being careful not to cut into her sleeves when she moved her sword underneath her left elbow to harmlessly jut aside. "What makes you say I'm tired?" she asked defensively. Though Sasuke was always right about that sort of thing, she wanted to at least make him doubt himself from time to time. It was her way of getting back at him for being so damned _good_ at everything. "Are you sure it's me that's tired, not you?" She smiled sweetly and closed her eyes, looking innocent and kind, despite calling him out.

The grimace on Sasuke's face was short but worth it, and Hinata enjoyed a silent victory when the composed master rushed to his own verbal defense. He looked a bit flustered, but no less cocky when he turned his head slightly aside to give the appearance of being aloof. "I'm sure. After all, I can go for days without sleep, and my eyes never grow weary."

He was so serious that Hinata had to giggle. Her hand covered her mouth politely and she wiped a small tear from the corner of her eye. She tasted some dirt on her lips when she wet them with her tongue. "Relax, Sasuke; I was only kidding." She felt mischievous tonight. After a brief pause: "I never knew your ego was so fragile."

Sasuke should have been annoyed by the remark, but something about Hinata's earnest nature made it impossible to feel that way about her. He could only laugh through his nose to contain his enjoyment of the banter. "At least I'm confident enough to defend myself. Didn't you just apologize to your enemy for giving him an opening?"

Hinata blushed a bit deeper as she remembered it, scrambling to rationalize her behavior: "You're not my enemy, though! I'd never apologize to someone who actually wanted to hurt me..." She seemed doubtful when she heard herself.

Sasuke smiled wide with closed lips and shook his head. "Sometimes I wonder, Hinata. It's bad enough that you apologized for opening up your defense, but you also resisted using a blade because you didn't want to hurt anyone. Don't forget that when you're fighting somebody, your only goal should be to win. You can mend wounds and make apologies later, but when the weapons and ninjutsu are still flying through the air, your focus needs to be on two things: your own survival, and your opponent's defeat. Nothing else matters."

Hinata frowned at the thought. It was her biggest weakness, and she knew it. She was too soft. She couldn't disconnect herself from her emotions during combat; her inhibitions were constantly holding her back. It was a problem that she had always had, though she would never personally call it a problem. That's just the word that Kiba, Hanabi, and Sasuke had a habit of using. 'Problem.' "I've survived this long, though. That has to count for something." She was defending herself, even though she felt a sense of guilt for doing so. Sasuke was only trying to help her, and he had no way of knowing exactly how much she resented being told to harden her heart.

Sasuke nodded, conceding her last point as a fair one. "You've got me there," he said with a shrug and a confident smirk. He began to walk toward Hinata, narrowing the small gap between his standing and her sitting. "When you focus on other things, like keeping a good relationship with your friends and family, then they remember it and are grateful. That way, when you're the one in trouble, your goodwill comes back around when they protect you. It's an investment; a trade-off. You're blunting your own combat effectiveness in exchange for being able to rely on others. Your loved ones are there to protect you when your own two hands aren't enough." Sasuke thought of Naruto, particularly of all the times that he should have been doomed only for somebody else to step in and help him. Sasuke remembered his own 'sacrifice' during the battle with Haku, all those years back. "That said, it's not going to help you in a tournament setting. Everybody wants to win. Even your best friend—or your sister—will knock your face into the dirt if it brings them closer to the top of the ranks."

Hinata huffed, propping her chin onto her knees then tucking her arms under them and around her thighs. "Thanks for teaching me how to use that sword, Sasuke, but I don't think I'll ever feel comfortable wielding it against anyone. That kind of violence just doesn't suit me, that's all."

Sasuke placed his own sword's hilt into his right hand, holding the gleaming blade upright. Then, with his left hand open, he flexed his chakra and utilized the power of his Rinnegan to yank the sword from Hinata's grip and bring it to his own hold. Now holding both swords, old and new, he looked between them to assess the difference in quality. "I think it suits you perfectly, Hinata; the style is yours to master. That being said, I don't think its current form is quite right for you." He turned his sword downward and thrust it into the ground, freeing his hand.

Hinata was busy trying to blink away her confusion after losing her grip on the sword so suddenly; it took her a few seconds to realize what happened, even though she had seen the technique so many times before. She didn't think that she would ever come to terms with the absolute authority of Sasuke's power. It didn't matter how tightly she held onto something—if Sasuke wanted it, all he had to do was blink. Really, he didn't even have to blink. Things just seemed to happen as Sasuke willed them to happen. His enemies had every reason to be terrified of him. "What do you mean by 'current form,' Sasuke?" Hinata was looking curiously at him. "Does that sword have another one?"

"In a way." Sasuke nodded, then with a casual exertion of his chakra he ran a current of lightning through his right arm and into his fingers. Each digit crackled in the darkness, turning him into a beacon of the night. The surge of electrical energy ebbed and flowed until it finally stabilized into a soft, precise hum blanketing two of his fingers. Briefly, Sasuke turned his back to Hinata and began to work with his hands just out of sight. A few bright orange sparks bounced over his shoulders and the sound of grinding metal pierced the peaceful night. It didn't take long; less than a minute. He turned and abruptly tossed the sword back to Hinata. "How about now? Does it suit you any better?"

Hinata caught it automatically by the bottom and looked at it in mild awe. It was the same relative shape and it even remained dirty, but she found the difference as she ran a pale finger across the edge. She pulled her touch away from the 'blade' and discovered that her skin was intact. The steel had been sharp enough to bisect a coconut without effort, but no longer; Sasuke had dulled the edge to a smooth, barely-rounded bluntness. Hinata swung it through the air once, finding that its balance remained fine and the weight was almost unchanged. It whistled keenly in the wind as her swing split a passing gust. "It's perfect," Hinata whispered, staring at it as if hypnotized by the way the stars reflected off the sword's clean patches. If she hadn't already been on her knees from exhaustion, she would have fallen due to the emotion in her joints. The alteration was hardly an effort for Sasuke, but Hinata viewed the notion as more than just a blacksmith's amendment. To her, it was something rather romantic.

Sasuke had blunted the edge of the sword, and he had done it just for her. Hinata was no stranger to weapons; she had trained beneath or alongside numerous partners and masters, but they had always made it their task to change her. To 'improve' her. Even Neji had been rigidly insistent on holding her to the classical Hyuuga training methods. Sasuke, though, rather than trying to sharpen her gentle soul to suit the weapon, dulled the weapon to suit her soul instead. He had seen that it did not fit, and he made the necessary changes. It was a small thing, but she felt all the more connected to him in the moment. She looked up at him with tears welling in her eyes, her thoughts surging with emotion. She wanted to pour her heart out, but she could only managed a small "Thank you." After that, she whimpered quietly and clutched the hilt in both hands, hugging the non-lethal weapon to her chest like it was a stuffed bear.

Sasuke seemed flustered by the sincerity in Hinata's gratitude. He had been adequately composed up until he saw a tear streaming down her cheek, at which point he turned his head away and put a hand over his mouth. "It was nothing, really," he mumbled out like an awkward teen, rubbing his chin with his bandaged thumb. His nerves were firing oddly, causing little jolts of pain with each motion of the new arm. It still wasn't ready. "I want you to use it, but you don't want to kill anybody with it. This is the best compromise, right?" As Sasuke spoke, Hinata was grinning quietly up at him; he diverted his attention slowly to the sky. Anything to hide the blush that was beginning again. "Anyway, that's enough for tonight."

Hinata nodded slowly, in a softly great mood. Her chest felt tingly in a good way, like she was being tickled inside as she brushed her hand along the nearly-harmless metal of the weapon. "Right, that's enough work for both of us." She stood carefully, watching the fatigue in her ankles so that she didn't fall. Even though she loved the way Sasuke would always catch her, she hated to appear so wobbly in front of him, like she always had to be saved. He had already saved her too many times to keep track of, both mentally and physically. And what had she done for him in return? She couldn't summon a single example, but that was her own modesty working against her. She agreed that it was time to end the training, but... "I don't want to hurry home, though."

Sasuke had a little smirk, not quite a smile. "I'm not going to run you off before you're ready."

Hinata found the sheathe to her sword in the rubble nearby, picking up the plain black tube and sliding her rounded weapon into its proper place. As she fumbled with the strap in an attempt to sling it over her shoulder, she spoke bashfully behind messy curtains of her own hair. "Well...would you walk me off?" She asked hesitantly. "I'm ready to go, but I don't want you to rush me home."

Sasuke stepped in to help her with the strap, as the poor girl was hopeless on her own. Gently, he took one end of the leathery scabbard and whispered. "Alright; no rush." He whispered, and while he began to adjust the size of the strap, he realized how close he had gotten. He had been close to her before; he had felt her, kissed her, nuzzled her skin, yet somehow the nearness never got easier for him to endure. It made him sweat and sped his heart. Even Sasuke, the master swordsman, for some reason couldn't figure out exactly how to work the simple mechanism that adjusted the size of an even simpler leather strand.

Hinata was watching between parted hairs, and she smiled with some mischief when she recognized Sasuke's difficulty. Her own hand came up to settle on top of his, and her smile became playful when he stopped everything he was doing. Her little touch had done so much to him; was he completely stunned? She took charge in a sweet little voice. "I think you do it like this," she explained, pulling the scabbard—and Sasuke's hand—closer to her chest. She acted confident, like some practiced vixen, but she knew that Sasuke would be able to hear the pounding of her heart when his knuckle brushed against her upper breast. It was okay, though, because she could hear his thundering heartbeat, too. They were both lost, taking haphazard turns without a map, constantly winding up ever further away from where they started—and it was Hinata's turn to choose which way to go, for better or worse.

She held the scabbard to her chest because Sasuke's hand was attached. Hinata didn't plan for his fingers to brush against her covered breast so warmly, but there was a sensitivity all across her tired skin that would have come with the same result no matter where he had first made contact. First, but certainly not last. Hinata realized that there was silence between them, and that she was no longer trying to figure out the scabbard at all. Neither, she suspected, was Sasuke. Her free hand went to his chest, as if paying equal attention to him as was paid to her. She felt his grip weaken on the covered sword, and hers did as well. It fell from both of their hands, but Hinata's foot came subconsciously outward to break its fall, letting it gently teeter to the ground without a harsh impact. Though her priorities had drifted elsewhere, the object was still newly precious to her.

Sasuke and Hinata put their hands to one another in a tender, mutual way. Warmth spread from fingers into hips and backs, shoulders and necks. It was a coalescence that lost track of itself; Hinata's mind was unable to come to terms with who was caressing whom. She only knew that she could feel his warmth, his breath, his puffing lungs. Though his breath was never heavy during practice, she could hear and feel his soft, heaving respiration against her ear. When the rush of connection came to pass, they were engulfed by one another. Sasuke's arms were tightly around Hinata's upper and lower back, with his hands on both a hip and a shoulder. Likewise, she was holding onto him as if for dear life, only realizing that her fingers were digging deep against his muscular shoulders when her lips came into contact with his. Though it was a sudden kiss, it was gentle, somehow both panicked and reserved. There was no clear winner between the two of them; it was nothing like a competition. Their eyes were closed, their bodies relaxed against one another. It happened again. With no planning, and almost no intent, they were unable to come apart.

Hinata felt crushed by the strength of Sasuke's embrace; it was his unquenchable need to keep her under his protection. How it must have killed him to leave her alone at the end of every day; was it enough for him to walk her to the door? No, she imagined not; he worried about her. It was plain on the tip of his silent lips when her tongue ran hesitantly across them. She could feel his fear—fear of being unable to help her, of losing her forever. She knew the fear from his fingertips because she felt the fear herself and channeled it into her own touch. The source of her dread was different; she did not expect him to be hurt by an enemy. In truth, she could not imagine an enemy capable of challenging the imposing young Uchiha. She feared losing him the way Sakura had lost him—that one day, he would change and become distant. Hinata wondered if one sunny morning she would come to the Uchiha grounds and spend the day alone. If he were to leave, would he tell her goodbye? She hoped so.

Euphoria overtook them both, and the impromptu kiss reached a point where the two faces could no longer get any closer. They had thoroughly traded the taste of one another, and when it came time to take a breath, the separation was not immediate. Hinata slowly, tenderly pulled back from Sasuke's tallness, relaxing off of her tip-toes and feeling a soft burn in her calves. She swallowed quickly and inhaled a hurried gulp of fresh air. "N-no rush," she fluttered out as if to reaffirm her desire to stay with him a while longer.

Sasuke's eyes came open after Hinata spoke. He had his own conflicted thoughts running in his head, but he kept them entirely to himself. What he couldn't hide was his smile, the same smile from the wedding photo. It was wide and a bit toothy, which looked odd on such a serious face. "You're blushing," he teased as his thumb came up to trace the side of Hinata's pale face.

She leaned into the caress of his thumb, pressing her jawline against it and allowing him to trace her structure gladly. "So are you," she coyly smiled, pushing her lips tightly together and pushing some roundness onto her soft cheeks. She poked the side of his face with the second knuckle of her pointer finger, tracing the tiniest outline of pink. Sasuke's blush was nowhere near as fierce as her own, but she had to come back with something, otherwise she would be at his mercy...as if she wasn't already.

Sasuke pursed his lips and relaxed his cheeks, hoping to will the redness away, but it was no use. He was caught. "It's your fault, you know," he said to her with an insincere accusation. "You caught me off guard," he exhaled slowly, squeezing Hinata against him, squishing her chest into his lower ribs. She was shorter than him, and slighter than him, but he could feel the strength in each one of her tired, lightly throbbing muscles. Even in light of her recent improvements, he could still feel the vast, untapped potential within her, and the thought of bringing it to the surface was an exciting one. More excited, still, was how he felt when he pressed his mouth to hers again. This time he was the clear initiator, and he used his height to press her head slightly backward, tilting her gently away from him, a hand on her upper back to support her. Hinata melted against him, her arms briefly going limp as she allowed herself to be kissed and held. Yes, this time Sasuke was in control of the situation. There would be no more blushing on his end—at least until the next time.

When breath pulled them apart again, Hinata's arms regained their control and came to drape over Sasuke's neck. Her fingers took a hold of his growing hair, noting that the length had become wild since he returned. She liked the look of it as it hung slightly past his chin; he seemed fierce, determined. Squeezing his black locks betwixt her digits, she groaned reluctantly. "Take me home, Sasuke...but do it slowly. I want to enjoy the trip, tonight."

Sasuke nodded, then with a gentle scoop of his arms around Hinata's legs and shoulders, she was in his grasp, an ear placed readily to his heart. He used (or abused) the power of his Rinnegan to pick Hinata's sword up off the ground and drop it into her cradled lap. "Don't lose that, Hinata; it's meant to be a part of you from now on."

She nodded and held it on the inside of her elbow while her other arm looped around Sasuke's torso. He seemed thicker than before, slightly more muscular, but it might have been her imagination. Either way, she relaxed against him and closed her eyes. "I'll cherish it, Sasuke; it's a gift from you."

Another smile graced Sasuke's features, then he leaned his head down to kiss Hinata's forehead. He got a little hint of salt and dirt from her skin, but it was well-earned. He kept his mouth above her left eye and whispered against her brow. "I'm glad that means something to you," he said quietly. "I don't give gifts lightly."

Hinata blushed, this time doing it alone, because Sasuke's face had turned back into its stoic normalcy. He was always the first one to compose himself after their moments of hunger, with Hinata taking a long, gradual path back to calm by comparison. She was almost there, almost safe from her own stray thoughts. Being held by Sasuke was hard to comprehend in her own head; it was exciting but soothing, sturdy but cushioned. He knew just where to place his hands, just how to distribute her weight. She felt like she was in bed, or a luxurious chair, but she could also detect each beat of his heart; blood pushed through his veins and warmed him perpetually, and if she focused she could pinpoint each vein against her tender, overworked flesh. She knew that he was a living, breathing, thinking human being, but in her dreams and fantasies he was a mountain. An insurmountable obstacle that stood between herself and the dangers of the world. He was flawed, but the flaws were carved by years of weathering, not by intrinsic defects. While she buried her head in his chest, she reminded herself that she was being embraced by a man whom some would say is the embodiment of the world's darkness. It didn't seem so bad, that; the sun's light could be blinding; hot and scorching.

As Sasuke took his first, gradual step toward Hinata's home, the young woman was growing to love her time in the shade.

* * *

 **Thanks for reading! First off, I'd like to apologize for the extreme wait between this chapter and the previous one. I have something of a family emergency that's ongoing. In early April, my dad had a stroke. It was minor, and he has been recovering very quickly, but he has been going through quite a bit of rehab and follow-up appointments—and since he's a recent stroke victim, he isn't able to drive himself around until the doctor clears him. That's where I come in! I've been acting as his chauffeur, taking him to all of his appointments and helping him with his errands. On top of that, school has been wrapping up, with finals just ending last week. I've been too busy to even consider writing, but now that things have started to wind down, I'm in a much better position. That said, apologies if this chapter feels a little bit lackluster. Even though things are better, I'm still kind of swamped, so I didn't have very much time to read, re-read, and edit it like I normally would. Even right now, I'm posting this one forty-five minutes before my dad's next doctor appointment. I just had to get something written since I've missed it so much.**

 **It's been almost two months since the last chapter, and I've felt every day of the gap just like I know some of you have. It feels great to finally be able to get another chapter out. The next one won't take so long, haha! Let me know what you thought of this one. Leave a review, ask questions; whatever thought comes through your head, let me know, good or bad. Once again, thanks for reading. See you next time.**


	45. Future

**Enjoy!**

* * *

With Hinata in his arms, Sasuke felt as if nothing could go wrong. She had weight and warmth, a real and physical presence; she was like concentrated calm that seeped into his body through his eyes, nose, and mouth. When she smiled up at him, he smiled down at her, and he could see the little ways her face changed when she was truly happy. In turn, he was truly happy alongside her. He had stopped fretting over how long the joy could last; he knew that nothing was eternal, but desperately hoped that this, even if _only this_ , would endure forever. Carrying the young and strong girl through the wreckage of a simultaneously forgotten and hated clan felt as strange as always. Why would such a woman be spotted in such an accursed field of misery? Sasuke knew that it was because she wanted nothing more than to be there, and he wanted nothing more than to have here there. But it was time to go home for the night.

Hinata was unusually restless that night as she was carried like a bride in Sasuke's arms, shifting her head and hips to look around from her nest of strong limbs and protectiveness. Sasuke was taking it slow, as she requested, and she had time to savor the journey. Overhead, she could see the tips of broken buildings that hadn't fully collapsed. Although nothing in the Uchiha District had survived Pain's destruction without damage, there were a few walls and columns that spoke of expired triumphs. She felt as if she was sneaking glimpses into the secretive past of Sasuke's family. She wondered about other powerful members of the clan; she knew of Sasuke, Itachi, Obito, and Madara, but there were surely others. Forgotten members of older generations whose names had been forgotten or omitted from history.

Sasuke reached the edge of the crater that used to be Konoha's ground level, but in modern days had become the top of a deep bowl; his once-home rested on an upper lip of the bowl, solidified and compacted like crusted cereal that stubbornly refused to come clean. He looked over his shoulder, sharing a thought in silence with Hinata: the day the Uchiha District came back to life would be a glorious one. Each day he spent there with the girl in his arms was like a hammer that drove the idea further into his consciousness. Yet there were other things to think about, things both good and bad. He turned his head forward again and looked down to Hinata, who smiled up at him sheepishly.

She squirmed in Sasuke's hold, then whispered with a little blush. "Sasuke, since we're taking our time tonight, maybe I should walk on my own?" Her chest quivered with a tiny giggle, imagining how it would look if she and Sasuke took to the streets in their current position. If the two of them walking side by side would have been enough to get people talking, then she couldn't imagine the implications of something straight out of a honeymoon.

Sasuke didn't have to ask her if she was strong enough to walk the whole way; he knew she was, whether her body did or not. "You don't like being carried?" The smirking Uchiha watched her blush begin to deepen in silence; he had gotten so used to looking at her that he had all but memorized the path taken by each darkening blood vessel in her cheeks.

Hinata fidgeted, cradling her new sword against her chest with both arms. It was like a teddy bear, a safety blanket; she clutched it close by instinct to soothe her wild thoughts. Yet, because it was a gift from Sasuke, all it did was summon up more thoughts of him. As a result, she whispered awkwardly. "I don't want you to let me go, but I feel like walking," she proposed, moving a hand off of her sheathed blade and placing her fingers against Sasuke's own, unbandaged right hand. Said hand was holding her at the back of her left knee, and she felt his fingers clutch a little tighter when her skin caressed his.

Sasuke nodded after a moment. "Walk all you want," he murmured agreeably. He looked out over the edge of the crater, admiring the glow of Konoha beneath. He slowly relaxed his grip on Hinata's body, feeling the way her soft frame filled itself out behind his retreating fingers. Her hips and thighs had a pleasant plushness to them, despite the tremendous fitness of the muscle underneath. The shapeliness that was Hinata dropped easily to her own two feet when she was released, and she turned to smile at Sasuke before offering a single hand, compensation for her freedom. Sasuke took that hand with his own and entwined his fingers with hers. "You look hungry," Sasuke remarked as he saw something in Hinata's eyes.

Hinata smiled, one hand in Sasuke's strong possession and the other still clutching his gift to her. "It feels like I haven't eaten in days," she admitted. Sasuke's genjutsu was a powerful training tool, but its toll was palpable. Although her body didn't experience the toll of all the hours spent in an alternate reality and her most recent meal of dried jerky was only a short time ago, her mind was keenly aware of how long it had been since she _felt_ like she had eaten. "Your technique is odd, Sasuke," she said yet again.

"Odd, but thankfully it's effective. If it hadn't worked, I don't know if we would have had enough time to get you fully prepared for what's coming." Sasuke's eyes moved past Hinata, able to look beyond the top of her head to see the nearly-finished improvements to the tournament arena. He could see that much of the scaffolding was still in place in the distance, but most of the basic construction had been completed. All that seemed to be left was the decoration and painting.

Hinata frowned a little, turning her own head to regard the same thing as Sasuke. She could see the arena's completion even more clearly than he could, thanks to the particular power of her eyes, but she felt a sense of unease. Maybe it was Sasuke's own, simply contagious enough to enter her cheerful disposition. "What's coming," she echoed. "You're not just talking about the tournament, are you?"

Sasuke shook his head, realizing that he was letting his mind wander to bleak things. No, not now; there was nothing to worry about _right now_. "Forget it," he sighed while clutching Hinata's hand more tightly. "I didn't mean to hurt the mood."

Hinata pulled against Sasuke's stern hand, first intending to bring him closer but accidentally pulling herself toward him. He was too sturdy to tug around, but either way, she got her wish and found herself leaning up to plant a reassuring kiss on Sasuke's cheek. "It's okay, I know how you feel; I'm worried just like you are." Her blush was coming back. "But I know it will be okay...because you'll protect me." She could feel her own hand being squeezed tighter by Sasuke's as she spoke, and it reaffirmed her thoughts. "You'll protect all of us, won't you?"

Sasuke nodded once. "That's right, Hinata. I won't let the darkness consume this village again." His cheek felt fuzzy from where Hinata had kissed it, and he let the feeling grow across his face to force a real smile. "And neither will you or your family, right? So long as the Hyuuga clan is on our side, we have the upper hand against any enemy."

Hinata smiled with modesty, turning her head aside to let some dirty hair hide her face. "I think it's you and Naruto that give us the upper hand, really," she admitted.

Sasuke shrugged. "He and I are just two men. A clan is more than two people, Hinata, and clans are what keep the village strong. More than fighting strength, more than wealth, more than anything, the clans are the organs that keep the village alive. If the average citizens are the blood cells, then the Hyuuga Clan is the heart that keeps them pumping through the streets. Or perhaps the liver that filters out the toxins."

Hinata looked to Sasuke with a feeling of loss. "I think it was the Uchiha Clan that kept the toxins out...maybe that's why things have gotten to be as bad as they are."

Sasuke looked down to his hand, conjoined gleefully with Hinata's, and thought for a moment. Ignoring the truth of his clan's betrayal, the idea was a soothing one. "You're right," he said with a calm smile. "This village needs the Uchiha; maybe it always has."

Hinata placed another kiss on Sasuke's cheek, this time on the opposite side of his face. "Then it's a good thing you're here," she whispered toward his ear. "Now you can protect your home like you were always meant to."

Sasuke felt a rush of confidence. Whether they were true or not, Hinata's words found their way into his imagination and grew quickly into a sprawling vision of the future. He had a smirk as he tried reining in his grandiose imaginings of a rebuilt Uchiha District, a revitalized police force, and a thriving, _growing_ Uchiha Clan. All in due time. "Someday," he started, "For now, I'll settle for taking you back home to your family, Hinata."

Hinata accepted the response with a smile and a nod. "That sounds wonderful."

Hand in hand, the pair started down the semi-steep path that descended into the village.

* * *

Already within the village and perched atop one of the wooden bracings that surrounded the arena undergoing improvements, Naruto and Sakura were relaxing with their feet dangling over the open edge of the simple construction brace. The two were holding hands idly, each looking intermittently out over the festival grounds a block away from the arena itself. Things had been coming together quickly, with new kiosks and performance stages erected daily. Naruto had his chin in one hand, reading an excessively thick book that was balanced on one knee. After a moment of staring at the same page he had read three times over, he complained through squinting eyes. "All this studying is giving me a headache."

Sakura slanted her gaze toward her husband and sighed. "I'm proud of you for taking some initiative in your studies, but you're not going to learn anything if all you do is complain."

Naruto grumbled, scratching the side of a whisker-marked cheek. "Whatever, I've got time, right? Kakashi-sensei is really young. He's not like granny Tsunade was..." Naruto turned his eyes toward the sky, as if scanning for dark clouds and bad omens. It was risky to call attention to the Fifth Hokage's seniority, especially after her retirement. Though most observers wouldn't have noticed due to her vanity jutsu, she was beginning to feel and show her age.

"Kakashi-sensei may be young, but he's had a tough life—I think he's already worn out. He only took the job to begin with because he was voted in; well, that and he also wants to give you as much time as possible to prepare to replace him." Sakura hummed sadly at the thought that came up; not about Kakashi, but about her mentor, the former Hokage. Indeed, Tsunade was getting older. All those years of using her healing techniques to such a major extent had eventually caught up to her cellular structure. She was by no means near death, but her combat and healing capabilities had been deteriorating steadily. Someday in the future, as it had been discussed privately between the pair, Sakura would take Tsunade's place as the top medic in the village. While Naruto studied for a job that would become his in a decade or more, Sakura was forced to contemplate her own similar future. Perhaps an even more immediate one. "Anyway, if you want to pick up where Kakashi-sensei eventually leaves off, you're going to have to know everything about the other nations and their people. Shizune tells me that the Hokage is working himself half to death trying to hold the alliances between the villages together."

Naruto closed the book on his knee, then looked down to the workers scurrying beneath the perch. He and Sakura were ten stories up, high enough to have a fair view of the entire east side of the village. The grounds beneath were lit by street lamps or handheld flashlights, and a low din of work-like conversation constantly floated up to their ears. "It's amazing that Kakashi-sensei was able to organize so much in such a short time," Naruto mused, running his eyes from one small project to the next. Dozens of workers and thousands of planks of wood were moving from place to place, and the sound of hammers echoed off the walls like a primitive song. "All these people, all these materials...I don't know if I'll ever be able to wrap my head around it."

Sakura noted her husband's awe and squeezed his hand. "Don't worry, this kind of project is usually segmented out to other people. The Hokage brought in an independent construction company to help with the planning and execution, but only under the condition that any extra workers they needed would be hired from within Konoha. After all, we need as many paying jobs as we can get; not everybody in the village has a heroic legacy to fall back on." She winked at Naruto, who smiled with comedic guilt.

Naruto then turned his appreciation elsewhere. "Really, some people have something even better than just a heroic legacy," Naruto started scanning the area beneath him in search of a familiar metallic faceplate capped with messy brown hair. The figure in question was in the middle of performing a jutsu of some kind when Naruto spotted him. "Captain Yamato is the type of guy you really want for something like this. Even _I_ can't do what he does." As Naruto finished speaking, Yamato finished his technique and pressed his palms to the ground. From beneath dirt that was already upturned, a hundred fresh planks of wood arose, falling neatly into a stack that was five planks wide and twenty high. The bundle was promptly loaded onto a wagon and pulled away by a pair of workers in plain clothes, then another cart was pulled up and Yamato started the process all over again.

"What was that?" Sakura blurted as if something had zipped past her face. "Did I just hear the famous Naruto Uzumaki admit that there's something he can't do?"

Naruto glared at Sakura with a tight mouth, then took his hand off of hers in favor of slinging his arm around her shoulder and pulling her against his side. "Well, maybe if I work hard at it, I could figure it out."

Sakura looked to Naruto's bandaged arm, pondering the possibility. Then she shut her eyes and hummed. "I think you're just looking for an excuse to stop reading about politics." One eye opened again, peering up at Naruto's creased frown; he was caught. "Sorry, but you asked me to keep you focused, so that's what I'll do." She put her hand on the book that had been shut, and she gingerly peeled the hardcover apart until the marked page was on display. "You were right there," she helpfully pointed out with a black-gloved finger.

Naruto sneered, but he went along with it. As she had said, he had brought her 'help' upon himself, and it did him no good to regret it anymore. "Fine," he acquiesced. "But we're having ramen tonight. I don't care if it's not Thursday."

Sakura let out a laugh that was a bit thicker than the cherry blossom petals she resembled, and she slipped her arm around the future Hokage's waist, digging her head against his shoulder and settling in. "It's hard to believe we've been married for over a month already. Everything has come and gone so fast," she whispered, practically talking to herself while Naruto pretended to be engrossed in his studies. "I hope the rest of my life doesn't go by like this. Lady Tsunade used to always talk to me about youth and beauty, and how one day I might wake up and all of it will be in the past. I'll eventually look in the mirror and see an old hag I've never met." She shuddered slightly.

Naruto shrugged the comment off. "If that happens, just do what granny Tsunade does and put on a disguise."

Sakura huffed out a sigh. "I'm not just talking about how I look, though. I don't want the world to leave me behind; I like being here, in the moment, ready to make a difference. I know it can't last forever, but I wish it could."

Naruto raised a brow. "Quit talking like some old crone; you're barely twenty."

"Easy for you to say, Naruto; your family is known for its life force. You've probably got more years in you than any of us." She looked down to Naruto's stomach, hidden by a plain black shirt but carrying implications all the same. "Not to mention Kurama."

Naruto blinked. "What, you think having Kurama inside of me is going to make me live longer?"

Sakura shrugged. "You heal faster because of him, so maybe you age more slowly, too." _Or maybe aging is faster, like the side-effects of Tsunade's regeneration._ She kept the thought to herself. "Either way, I've been thinking..." She set a hand on Naruto's thigh, squeezing the firm muscle and feeling a rewarding tension under the skin that slowly dissipated as she soothed him with a caress.

Naruto looked up from his book again, finding that Sakura was suddenly providing a better distraction than any of his own idle chatter. She had a sultry look in her eyes, one that he had gotten to know pretty well since they had become a serious couple. "Erm...w-what's up?" he partially stammered. She was being oddly affectionate, given the public setting.

She crept her face nearer to his, nuzzling the side of his cheek. "I don't know if it's too early or not...but maybe after this tournament is over, and all the dust has settled, we should think about having kids."

Naruto froze up, his face turning sweaty. "Having kids? Wait, you mean like, the two of _us_ having kids?"

Sakura pecked Naruto's cheek and gave him a pat on the thigh. "Yeah, of course I mean the two of us. It's something we've never really talked about. Everything felt perfect between us so I just went with it all, but now that we're married...what do you think?"

Naruto's face turned serious, and his eyes became downcast. "I don't know, Sakura. I've thought about it, but I'm not sure it's something we should do."

Sakura's face turned glum. "What do you mean? You don't think we'd have good kids?" She smiled after a moment. "If you're worried about how hard it is to be a parent, just don't; there's nobody I'd trust to be a better dad than you."

Naruto shook his head slowly. "It's not really that, it's just...do we really want to be the first ones from our class to have kids? What if they grow up without friends?" The steady, subtle quiver in Naruto's blue irises revealed the sincerity of his concern.

Sakura fell silent. Like a setting sun, her bright smile turned downward as she contemplated the idea. She kept her hand on Naruto's lower back for support—of both him and herself. Loneliness was a serious issue for her husband; he knew what it was like to grow up with no father, no mother, no friends. If a certain few people hadn't come along, there's no telling how the Hero of Konoha might have turned out. But, it was that very thought that gave Sakura the confidence to shake her head and straighten her lip. "It won't be like that. If nothing else, we'll both be there for our child. Every single day." Then she looked down at herself, admiring her own figure in a completely different train of thought. "Although...maybe you're right. We probably shouldn't be the _first_ ones in our generation to give it a go." They were already the first ones to get married, why should they rush to break every milestone? Besides, Sakura's inner jealousy whispered to her, coerced her—she realized that she wanted to see Ino's lovely figure fall to the perils of motherhood before she made the leap herself.

Naruto liked that answer, for the time being. His mood rose back up to playful. "Phew, you scared me there. I thought you were going to insist." He looked to the stars again—anything to avoid his studies—and hummed. "Actually, I'd really like for whatever kids we end up having to be able to grow up with Sasuke's kids."

Sakura had a soft smile, but it was a skeptical one. "Sasuke's kids..." she drifted off. Though she had reconciled her guilt and jealousy over choosing Naruto, there were still pockets of new grief to dig up. She imagined Sasuke as a father, and she didn't know whether to be charmed or terrified. Casting his potential fatherly demeanor aside, the Sharingan was both a gift and a curse; although its power was tremendous, its secrets were directly tied to misery. She wondered if the Uchiha Clan was truly destined to experience heartache throughout every generation. She, unlike most, knew the genuine history of her former teammate's family. "Maybe that's wishing for too much, Naruto; do you really think Sasuke is the type to be a father?"

Naruto wasn't as worried about it as Sakura was. As usual, he was looking on the bright side of things. "Oh come on, Sasuke's got girls from every nation looking to go out with him. He wouldn't have any trouble at all finding a great wife...and he always talked about wanting to restore his clan, too. Maybe I misunderstood him, but doesn't that mean he wants to have kids? He can't really have a clan without them. Even I know _that_ much."

Sakura drew in a deep breath, getting a thick scent of fresh, moist wood through her nostrils. "I don't think it would be hard for him, I just wonder if he's in a state of mind to want it for himself." Her mind ventured back to their previous encounter, though, and her eyes softened. Sasuke had been so calm and natural, lacking the ominous aura which he used to exhume. "Although...there's something different about him lately. Even just since our wedding, I think he's changed a lot."

Naruto took Sakura's tenuous admission as a win, marking it down in his mind as part of a long-running score tally. "That's right; have some faith. Sasuke's definitely going to be a great dad someday...and that means I'll have to work to be a better one!" Naruto raised his fist and clenched it with determination. In the process, he knocked the mostly-forgotten book off of his knee with an errant elbow.

Sakura noticed the flub right away. "Naruto, be careful with that!"

By the time Naruto realized his mistake, the leathery green tome was already halfway to the ground; he had a moment of panic and sprung to his feet. "Look out below!" Naruto shouted, preparing to dive for the book.

There was a man walking at the bottom of the arc of the sailing paper meteorite. Fortunately, rather than take a hit to his unprotected head, both of his arms rose over his shoulders; he was yawning and stretching, as it seemed, and by some miracle of convenience the book fell directly into his open palm. There was a moment of awkward silence while the fellow's eyes came to his accidental catch. He held it like a pizza platter in his upturned fingers. While the suited man was blinking with surprise, he peered up to see Naruto and Sakura dropping from their perch to descend onto the ground before him.

Upon silently landing on the dirt, Sakura bowed her head and folded her hands in front of her waist respectfully. "I'm so sorry about that, sir; my husband sometimes isn't watching what he's doing." She had a flustered smile and her eyes were turned down modestly, but there was a little bit of menace pointed to Naruto, who was standing beside her and brushing the back of his head while she diplomatically smoothed things over.

The man who caught the book by some accidental fortune then regarded the tome, taking the liberty of leafing through its pages once the surprise had faded. "Oh, no harm done," he answered softly, "This is interesting material, after all." His voice was fairly typical, as was his overall build. The man had a face that looked about thirty years old, cleanly shaven and topped with dark black hair that was slicked into an efficient, business-like style. He wore a suit that reflected a similar seriousness, pieced out as a black jacket and pants that were clean and pressed, despite the chaotic construction that surrounded him. There were gaudy, gilded buttons and cufflinks adorning every pocket and conjunction. Underneath the jacket was a plain white shirt and a tie that was dark enough to match the outer layer of his garb. Using one hand to adjust his sleekly rectangular wire-framed glasses, he seemed to be engrossed in Naruto's book. Then, with sudden and belated recognition, he snapped his fingers and pointed to the young hero in front of him. "Say, aren't you Naruto Uzumaki?"

Naruto squared his shoulders and nodded with enthusiasm. "That's right, the one and only!" He pressed his thumb against the center of his chest, creating a divot in the fabric of his shirt. "And I'm studying to be the next Hokage!"

"Then this must be Sakura Haruno—apologies, I meant Sakura _Uzumaki_. Congratulations on your marriage. I'm sorry that I couldn't attend the wedding." The man smiled with a polite nod, then he folded the book shut. "I suppose you'll be needing this more than I will," he replied smoothly, passing it over to Naruto, who accepted it with a thin layer of guilt.

"Yeah...sorry about that. At least you weren't hurt, right?" He looked to Sakura, and despite the pleasant conversation, the pink haired woman seemed a bit irritable, as was often the case after each demonstration of her lover's clumsiness. She seemed to be asking herself how an incredible shinobi like Naruto could be such a klutz all the time.

The suited man waved a dismissive hand. "Oh, I think it would have made a wonderful story if it hit me. I could have told my daughter that Naruto Uzumaki himself was the one to give me a concussion."

Sakura perked up a bit, still harboring thoughts about children from a few moments earlier. "You have a daughter? How old?"

The man smiled to show two clean layers of presentable teeth. Every feature about him seemed custom tailored for business relations, perhaps even politics, and his demeanor was quite uplifting. "My daughter is grown now, out and about in the world. Perhaps a few years older than the two of you."

Sakura blinked, then looked inappropriately closely at the man's face. "She's grown? But you look so young..." she drifted off, then abruptly clapped her mouth shut with both hands. Flustered, she murmured behind her gloves. "I'm not calling you old...you just surprised me, that's all."

Again, the man shrugged off what seemed like accidental rudeness. "I hear that a lot. I wish I were as young as people take me for. Really, I've got too many years behind me; I've seen my fair share of what this world's got to offer, and that's why I'm here now," He peered to Naruto, but more specifically to the book in his hands. "Now that I've thought about it, I don't think my daughter will believe that I met you unless I bring some proof, Mr. Uzumaki." He clapped his hands in front of his chest and gave a courteous bow. "If it's not too much trouble, could I have your autograph?"

Naruto's big head grew a little bigger that day, and he agreed without hesitating. "Sure thing!" Right away, a clever idea hit him. "How about I just sign this book and give it to you? That way she'll know for sure that you're telling the truth!"

Sakura's face turned flat. She knew what her beloved was up to. _That's a pretty convenient way to get out of studying tonight, isn't it?_

The man's eyes lit up, showing the deep brown color of his irises. "That wouldn't be too much trouble? I'd hate to interrupt what you were doing—important studies, and all." His voice had a bit of a wink to it; he knew the score as well as Sakura did.

Naruto shook his head; he might have been the only one convinced that his plan was clever at all. "Nah, I can always buy another copy. It's nothing special." He opened the book to its title page, _'A Comprehensive History of Trade and Treaty in the Shinobi World'_ , and held his empty hand out. "Got something I can write with?"

A pen was produced from the grateful fan's inner coat pocket, a polished black rod lined with pure silver garnish. "Here, use this," he offered. "If it's not too much to ask, could you make it out to my daughter? Write something inspirational for her if you could; the cheesier the better. She views you as quite a hero, and it would mean the world to her if you would let on like you believe in her."

"Definitely; anything for a fan! What's her name?" Naruto took the pen and was briefly stunned by the weight of it. Surely, it was the sort of writing utensil that a person would have had to have paid entirely too much money for.

There was a split second of hesitation, a little flit of doubt across the man's sure gaze. He recovered swiftly. "Ah, you should make it out to Yukiko; that's what she likes to be called."

Naruto opened the pen and began to write, either missing or ignoring the brief pause. As his hand made use of the perfectly balanced, smooth-writing tip of the pen, he stuck his tongue out to focus. He had been practicing his signature, and it came out big and bold in black ink. Overall, his tribute read as such: _"Follow all of your dreams, Yukiko! I believe in you! -No.1 Hokage Candidate Naruto,"_ complete with the symbols of Konoha and Uzushiogakure on either side of his name. Naruto checked the whole inscription and then bit the tip of his thumb before nodding. He showed the finished work to his customer and grinned broadly. "How's that?"

The man's fingers clasped the bottom of the book to gently wrest it away from Naruto's light grip. "It's perfect! She'll be so happy to have this. Thank you very much, Naruto, from the bottom of this heart of mine." He bowed again, this time closing the book and holding it between his clamped palms. "Sadly, I've got to cut this meeting short now. I'm needed on the opposite end of the arena; there's been a delay that needs my attention, you see." He smirked. "But I really do appreciate this." He pointed to the book with a curled finger. Already he was turning to leave, urgent business indeed.

Naruto's face was shining with delight; he was basking in his own glory as a hero. "It's nothing. Tell your daughter that I look forward to meeting her someday!" Naruto waved his hand goodbye, quickly noticing that he was still holding the fancy pen between his strong fingers. "Oh, hey, you forgot this!" Naruto held up the shining shaft and pointed to it.

"Keep it!" came the curt reply, attached to a hand waving overhead to solidify the goodbye. With that, he disappeared into the river of workmen coming and going, all of them in hardhats and wearing thick gloves. And then he was gone, vanished into the fray and navigating with cunning experience.

Naruto hummed, then looked at the pen he was incidentally gifted with. He turned to Sakura, about to say something when a strong hand clasped his shoulder, and Sakura's as well. Both of them turned their heads in unison with confusion on their faces.

Captain Yamato stood behind them, his fingers clenching slightly on their shoulders. His voice was low and kind, and his smile conveyed his gladness to see them. "Hey you two, long time no see."

Both of Yamato's former subordinates were glad to see him in return, with Sakura chiming in first. "It's been forever, hasn't it? I guess you've been pretty busy lately. Oh, everything here looks wonderful," she added with a swivel of her head. All around her, there were wooden structures built by the courtesy of Yamato's unique gift. "Thanks to you."

Yamato shrugged, taking his hands off of Naruto and Sakura's shoulders in favor of draping his whole arm around each of their necks. He was slouching a bit, seemingly worn out. There was a little bit of a sigh in his voice. "Yeah, but let me tell you, it's exhausting to use so much chakra every day. I'll be glad when it's all done with."

Naruto smirked and gave Yamato a pat on the back. "I'll bet Kakashi-sensei has a whole bunch of other things for you to do after this! With all the construction he's been calling for, you've got to be the most valuable shinobi in the village these days."

Yamato sighed; he knew it was true. There was always more work for him to do. Sometimes he wished for a nice, long break, but he knew that Kakashi wasn't going to take one, so why be the first one of the two to fold? "I think that's still _your_ distinction, Naruto. You keep everyone's efforts focused; you remind them why we have this peace in the first place. And it's not just the shinobi that look up to you; you're great for the average person's morale, too." He looked pointedly to the pen in Naruto's hand. "You got that from a man in a suit just now, right?"

Naruto turned the utensil between two fingers and regarded it like a typical bauble; a curiosity and little else. "Yeah, why?"

Yamato chuckled. "That person who just left is the general contractor who volunteered to lead this whole project. More than just that, he's the owner of a pretty major construction firm based in the Land of Waves. By now he's more than wealthy enough to retire happily, but instead of that he's been working as hard as any of us have around here. That's because he wants to repay our village—and you—for everything you did during the Fourth War. He's already devoted a lot of his own workers and capital toward making Konoha's structures stronger and more accommodating." Yamato looked up toward the Hokage monument, then beyond to the dark, semi-skeletal buildings that had only recently begun to take shape into something recognizable. "I guess my point is that you inspire people like him to step forward and be better than they would be on their own; he never had a reason to put so much time and effort into this village until you came along. And it's a safe bet that the rest of the world feels the same way. You make things brighter, Naruto. For everybody."

"That's what people keep telling me," Naruto uttered with a hint of exasperation. "It's a lot to think about, though. I gotta say that life was easier when I was just a misfit. Before everybody admired me like this, I could get away with _anything_. Now that people are watching me, I feel like everything I do comes with some kind of consequence."

"It's good that you're thinking about that," Sakura pushed her way into the talk with a smile and a wink. "That's just the first sign that you're ready to be the Hokage. Stop worrying, though; you know your mistakes are part of your charm, right? Just do whatever you do, and things will get better every day."

Naruto hummed, looking up to the massive tournament arena behind him. "Yeah, I guess you're right." He peered around himself in every direction. Familiar faces and strangers alike were working together to finish the base level of the festival grounds nearby. It wouldn't be long before the booths and stages were rented out by the owners of various carnival games, performers, and food vendors. "How long until the festival opens up, Captain Yamato?"

Yamato took his arms off of Naruto and Sakura's shoulders, then folded them under his chest. "Probably two more weeks; the construction is in its last phase, but it'll take some time to get things set up for customers."

"And the tournament starts a week after that?" Sakura asked, tilting her head with idle curiosity.

"Hopefully," Yamato huffed. "You never know when things might go wrong, but as it is, we're starting to see competitors from the other villages filing in. Right now, we're still on track for the first match to come in three weeks. We'll use the outcome of the first battle to figure out the pace of the matches afterward."

Naruto punched a fist into his open palm, cracking a few knuckles and flashing a confident grin. "Perfect, so who am I fighting first!?" His eyes had a twinkle that was rare to see in peace time, that of a born fighter who was prepared to face odds of a thousand-to-one.

Yamato shrugged, looking to Sakura who had a different expression—one that seemed to apologize for her husband's constantly shifting moods. He put on a hesitant smile, a bit overwhelmed by Naruto's eagerness. "Well, we don't know who you'll be fighting first just yet; Kakashi is finalizing everything by hand to be sure that it all adds up. There might be an odd number of entrants, or maybe too few entrants for a certain tier, and he wants to solve all the potential problems ahead of time. Already we're starting to see that the 'Beginner' bracket might be poorly named; Konohamaru and others like him might not be much compared to you and I, but he's far from just another Genin pushover." Yamato scratched his cheek and mulled a few thoughts. "We probably should have had four tiers, but it's too late for a big change like that. All of the marketing material has been shipped out to the press; it's going to be plastered all over the arena by the end of the week. All I know for sure is that the first battle is going to be Sasuke versus Rock Lee."

Naruto blinked. "Really, that's the first one? Does Bushy-Brows know that?"

Yamato hummed affirmatively with a slim baritone. "It was decided by his own request. You know how he is; he aims high. The way he put it to Kakashi is that if he beats Sasuke early, then he'll almost definitely get to fight _you_ in the finals...and if he loses to Sasuke, then it was going to happen sooner or later anyhow. Kakashi liked the idea; it gives him a pair of big names to pit against each other to draw a full crowd on opening day. Lee is famous worldwide as Guy's protegee, thanks to Guy's efforts against Madara, and Sasuke is...well," Yamato made a little scrunch of his nose. "He's Sasuke. People might not like him, but they sure want to see him fight."

Sakura grimaced. "You mean they want to see him lose."

Naruto listened to his wife's observation and felt a twinge of sadness. He wanted to deny what she said, but he knew the truth just as well as she did. The whole village would be rooting for Naruto in the tournament, but would anybody root for Sasuke? The thought of his friend being so widely disliked made his chest feel tight, but he swallowed the hurt and took a breath to push through the trembling. "He'll fight hard, that's what matters. If Bushy-Brows beats him, then that's that."

Yamato regarded Naruto thoughtfully. He could see the conflict plain on the Jinchuriki's whiskered face. Maybe Naruto wanted Lee to win after all. Maybe because he was afraid of what might happen if Sasuke were to eventually defeat him in the final match. Or maybe Yamato's intuition was off, and Naruto was just an odd mix of enthused and hesitant. Either way, the captain was intrigued. "Nobody knows who's going to win, because everyone is going to try their hardest. That's what makes it all so exciting." Yamato nodded sternly. "And that's what's going to bring the nations together. Excitement, curiosity, even a little betting." As Yamato spoke, small wheelbarrows and much larger wagons were starting to build up around his abandoned workstation; the men in charge of them seemed to be patient as they waited with elbows leaned on their equipment, but Yamato could feel that patience getting tested with every second he dallied around. He cleared his throat with a low-key cough. "Anyway," he grumbled, "I should get back to work. It's been good seeing the two of you; I'll have more free time once everything is set up, so we can catch up better after that."

Naruto and Sakura nodded and gave him a unified thumbs-up, with the future Hokage candidate offering his support: "Do your best, Captain Yamato!" As the captain briskly walked off, Naruto's voice carried all through the work site, and as if his words were a sweeping fire, spreading rapidly through a dry wheat field, everyone present seemed to kick their efforts into a higher gear at the sound. It was just as Yamato had said; Naruto's presence alone was enough to encourage a faster, more enthusiastic pace. He inspired peace and companionship, hope and compassion; he improved the world simply by existing.

Few dared to imagine what might happen to the world's stability if he were to somehow be taken away from it.

* * *

Sasuke and Hinata reached civilization, and at some point prior to stepping into the first street lamp had separated their hands for the good of appearances. Though their relationship was hardly a closely-guarded secret, it was a sense of modesty that kept them bashfully separated when under scrutiny—and there was much scrutiny. Sasuke's every move was watched through cornered eyes, his presence denoted by hushed whispers and shorter breath. He could feel the fear like a cloud of dust, and when he breathed it scratched his throat and made him hoarse. Even without his dark travel cloak, he was an imposing figure by reputation alone. The Uchiha crest upon his back was just another notch on a belt of reasons to be terrified of the man who walked so freely through the streets.

Hinata felt the same haze that Sasuke did, and her head was turned down to the laid stones that made her walkway. This was the first time since their dinner date that they had walked so freely through the streets together, and she did remember a similar atmosphere on that night as well. Perhaps she had willed herself to forget that stifling sensation, but it was here now and impossible to ignore. She spoke to him with trepidation, as if their surroundings had somehow caused their personal interactions to morph into something bizarre and unclean. The resentment and worry that surrounded her on all sides—all from average folk with average jobs and families—made her feel as if she were an outsider simply for walking alongside him. "Sasuke, do you know why they're acting this way?" And of course she meant the hundred eyes all peering at him with accusations loaded in their minds.

Sasuke smirked and gave a nod. "Of course I do. Right now, they're afraid of me because they aren't sure where Naruto is." His hand went idly to his sword, fingers teasing the smooth hilt as if to bask in the fear. "They know that, at any moment, I could turn this blade against all of Konoha." He glanced toward a man who had absently wandered past him, only having the good sense to cower and alter his path once the dark eyes of the Uchiha had pivoted his way. "Now, they've convinced themselves that if I were to ever attack the village, Naruto would stop me—but here, now? They don't know if he would be quick enough to save them."

Hinata frowned and regretted the question—though not entirely. The contrast between the average person's opinion of Sasuke and her own opinion made her feel proud in some way; she recognized her own capacity for acceptance, even fearlessness. There were times when Sasuke made her feel afraid, but more than anything he made her feel safe. Protected. "Don't they know that you would protect all of them with your life?"

Sasuke chuckled sardonically. "The thought has never crossed their mind."

Hinata sighed quietly. Not defeated, only forced to give a bit of ground. "Well, have you ever _told_ them that you'd be willing to protect them?"

"You think they'd listen?" Sasuke asked with a haughty sense of self-assurance. He knew the average opinion of the Uchiha clan; even in their strongest days, they were resented for their role as peacekeepers. A typical drunken troublemaker usually remembered the night he was thrown in a cell for acting out; the police force, though necessary, was a source of discontent for that ilk, and the sentiments gradually spread outward. The final result was a feeling of isolation and marginalization, and at the very end of that train of thought was the attempted coup that got the entire clan killed. "These people don't care what I have to say. They'd just as soon see me executed so they don't have to worry about what I might do to them."

"Maybe you could start by calling them something other than 'these people'; that makes it sound like you think they're all the same." Hinata felt small and insignificant against the the rage inside of Sasuke. Perhaps it was a bad idea— _her_ bad idea, she realized—to 'take it slow' on the way home. She freshly recognized why he had a tendency to travel quickly by rooftop. Sasuke wasn't like her; he didn't see any joy in stopping to smell the roses. "Who have you tried talking to since you came back? Me? Naruto? Sakura? Anybody else?" She prodded him a little with an elbow. She tried to maintain a playful tilt in her voice, a meager attempt at keeping him calm despite the touchy subject. "The average person is pretty nice, you know."

Sasuke crossed his arms and looked to his left, watching yet another small group of people veer off course, collectively shaping a nearly-visible bubble of personal space around Sasuke in every direction. Every direction except for his immediate right, precisely where Hinata walked effortlessly alongside him. He scoffed and kept his eyes off of her. It was so much easier to disagree with her when he couldn't see her pleading gaze. "I'm not one of the nice ones, and I'm not going to pretend I am. If people are afraid, that's their choice. All that matters is that I'm not going to do what they think I'm going to do."

Hinata allowed her shoulders to slump. Her muscles were burning all over, but as long as she kept moving the pain had no chance to pool up and irritate her. Motion was her medicine, and so she glided along at an even pace that Sasuke dictated by a half-step lead. She wasn't ready to let the subject rest, despite the futility of it. "So you don't care what people think of you? Is that it?"

Sasuke shrugged. It wasn't the full truth, but it was a nice summation of it. "Sure, if that's how you want to put it."

Hinata huffed. "If that's true, then why did you enter the tournament in the first place?"

"Kakashi asked me to do it," he said plainly. "Why does it matter?"

"You could have said no," she pushed against him with her shoulder, now leaning into him with most of her slight weight, all with no impact on his stride. He was so sturdy and stable that nothing could sway him.

"I wanted to say no on principle," Sasuke answered flatly. "I probably would have walked out on him if I didn't need an excuse to stay."

Hinata blinked. "An excuse? Couldn't you have stayed just because you wanted to?"

Sasuke shut his eyes and flexed his upper lip distastefully. "You're asking a lot of questions," he asserted as if signaling her to stop. Then his expression softened and he remembered who she was. Somehow, amidst the sea of silent voices pushing disgust, he had forgotten that she was the sole exception to all of his rules. He bit the inside of his cheek and made a 'tsk' sound with his tongue. "Anyway, just forget it. You already know I stayed because I made a promise to Sakura."

"You made the promise because you were willing to try," Hinata added, smiling hopefully. "I'm glad you decided to stay longer." She blushed; the notion spoke for itself. "Now that you're here for good, we should try to make it feel more like home. You shouldn't have to feel hated while you're at home."

Sasuke found time to turn his mouth softly upward, a minor smile that hid in the shadows of his hair. The lights all around him were quite bright; his path took him through the shimmering casino district, small but prominent, and the neon lighting had a mission to paint him with every possible color. Red, orange, yellow, pink; every combination thereof. The noise of the location managed to distract the average citizen, and it was one of the few places where almost nobody noticed him; where the brightness of the lights and cheer of the sound finally drowned out his passively menacing presence. Despite the commotion of winning slots and pachinko machines, Hinata could hear him when he spoke: "I haven't stopped trying to fit in, but I think I've hit a wall."

Hinata pursed her lips. "If I tried to say that during training, you'd find a way to convince me I was wrong. I'm not as good at doing that as you are, so you'll have to convince yourself instead. I guess that's the hard part, huh?" She didn't mind the flashing lights and cacophony around her; what bothered her in the back of her mind was that she first encountered Shell in that same district. Briefly she felt panic, but it was a primal and uncontrolled instinct summoned up by a meaningless memory. Truly, she felt no fear. Sasuke was by her side this time.

"Yeah, that's the hard part," Sasuke casually confirmed Hinata's insight. "If I could just tell myself whatever I needed to hear, I wouldn't worry so much about making friends."

"Just be good to the village, Sasuke; more people are going to start liking you." Hinata decided that she didn't care about appearances anymore. Emblazoned by bright violet light from an overhead advertisement, she reached over to clasp Sasuke's hand in hers.

Sasuke paused to ask himself a thousand questions, but the answers were all the same: _Just go with it._ His fingers clutched hers and he didn't mind the stares. Scandalous though it was for the famed Hyuuga princess to be seen holding hands with the oft-reviled Uchiha criminal, the two were often forgetful of the fact that a whole world existed around them. So many times in so few days, the totality of their existence had been boiled down to the connection of their hands, their lips, their eyes, even their minds. Silence took their tongues, but their ears were constantly assaulted by the nocturnal crowd around them.

Sasuke eventually spoke again just as they reached the quiet at the end of the betting parlors: "Do you ever gamble, Hinata?"

Hinata didn't have to think very hard about her answer. "Never; I think it's a great way to lose a lot of money."

Sasuke smirked. "But you're going to bet on me to win the tournament, right?"

Hinata peered at him with the corner of her eye, subduing her smile. "Will it hurt your feelings if I don't?"

"Probably," Sasuke said with an exaggerated sigh. "Naruto's the favorite, I know. I just want to know that somebody has faith in me."

Hinata flattened her lips and puffed air through her nose. "You know I have faith in you!" She blushed and looked away with a little pout. "Naruto's really strong, though. Are you sure you can beat him with your arm like that?"

Sasuke lifted his new arm and gave his fist a squeeze. It responded well; whatever hitch had caused him to freeze up a few hours earlier had been at least temporarily resolved. "It's not the arm I'm worried about," he admitted candidly. "Naruto has a hell of an advantage over me, regardless."

Hinata was shocked to hear that, especially from Sasuke's own mouth. "He does?"

"Yeah, though it's a hidden one. The beast inside of him, Kurama, is always a factor. Even though the rules stop Naruto from using the bijuu's chakra, he can't be expected to 'turn off' his accelerated healing and oversized chakra reserves."

"What about you?" Hinata asked, now legitimately curious. "Don't you heal quickly, too?"

He shrugged. "Quicker than average, I suppose, but Naruto is on another level." Sasuke flexed his brow, recalling a long-ago incident. "I once punched a hole clean through him, but a few seconds later it was completely healed. I figure that I'll have to deal enough damage to otherwise kill him a dozen times before any injuries will actually stick."

"That's okay," Hinata chirped with a near-arrogant confidence in her teacher and semi-secret love. "You just have to be a dozen times better than him. That won't be a problem for an Uchiha, will it?"

After a second of thought, Sasuke laughed and shook his head. "Go figure, that's exactly what I needed to hear."

Hinata smiled and laughed alongside him, holding his hand and her sword in equally tight grips. Around her, the lull in village activity was brief, as they soon entered the next populated part of town; this time restaurants and grocers surrounded the pair, a much more wholesome environment than the previous one. However, the stares returned—partially. Night kept the crowds thin, and surprisingly not everybody took issue with Sasuke. The friendlier the neighborhood, the easier it seemed to be for him to walk with a high chin.

Eventually, after passing through a handful of blocks and taking some turns to follow a few empty walkways, Hinata and Sasuke arrived at the front gate of the Hyuuga residential area. The lights were off, save for a few dim lanterns swinging on old-fashioned hooks. The illumination stuck to the paths, leaving the larger wooden abodes on either side completely dark. Bedtime had come, yet Hinata was still very much awake.

She turned to Sasuke and released his hand, clutching her new sword in both arms. "Thank you for taking me home, Sasuke. I can make it from here." She stepped in, then pointed her toes to gain some height. Her lips found the front of Sasuke's, kissing him quickly in the hopes of avoiding the notice of her keen-eyed clan. Most were asleep, true, but not all—almost definitely not Hanabi. The little meddler was always up late into the night; it was almost as if she never needed to sleep. _Oh well,_ Hinata thought, _she knows enough already._

Sasuke mirrored the tiny kiss and set a hand on Hinata's shoulder. "Take care of yourself tonight. I'll see you in the morning."

Feeling goosebumps forming where Sasuke's hand had fallen, Hinata turned her feet inward, touching her toes at the ends of her open boots nervously. "Y-you know, if you ever wanted to come inside...I mean, to meet some more of my clan, that is...that would be okay."

Sasuke hummed bluntly, seeming to think about the offer, and then he took his hand from her shoulder with some hesitation. "Thanks, Hinata. Maybe another time..." He turned away, apparently not interested in the offer. "Goodnight." And then, with speed unfathomable, he vanished from Hinata's sight.

Hinata sighed when he was gone, releasing a mountain of tension. "Great, I scared him off." She kicked away a pebble that was under her foot, then she carefully opened the gate from the outside and stepped into the walled quarter that housed her entire family.

A snarky little voice cut through the silence just behind Hinata. "He wanted to say yes."

Hinata almost jumped out of her skin. She was exhausted in every area; her head, muscles, and chakra network had been taxed to their limit, as always, during her training exercises. So in that moment after closing the gate behind her, she was vulnerable—and that's why Hanabi waited until then to speak from the shadows. Hinata shivered violently in her spine until the fright turned into embarrassed annoyance. "Hanabi, what are you even doing out here?"

Hanabi shrugged her tiny shoulders. "Waiting for you; what else?" She snickered, holding an oversized yellow sleeve in front of her face to conceal her little fangs.

Hinata blushed and remembered what was said. "Don't scare me like that. Besides, what do you mean by 'he wanted to say yes?' What do you know about anything?"

Hanabi's bare feet swished around in the grass just off the main walkway, twisting around idly while she sighed dramatically. "You're so clueless, sis. You still haven't been reading that book I gave you?" She blew a puff of air onto an errant strand of hair, clearing her forehead. "Sasuke wanted to come inside with you...but he already knew I was listening, so he got embarrassed and ran off." It was just a guess, but the younger sibling seemed fully confident. It didn't last—already distracted by another subject, she leaned forward at the waist and opened her eyes wide. Her mouth formed a little circle. "Oooo, what's that? Did Sasuke give it to you?" A small but deft hand reached out toward Hinata's sheathed sword, not quite reaching but begging to touch it.

Hinata hesitated, but it was her little sister of all people; of course she would let Hanabi see the item she was so proud of. "Yes, he gave it to me. He's been teaching me to use it for..." She shook her head. It felt like it had been a week or more; she could hardly convince her own mind that it had only really been one day. "Anyway, be careful with it." She passed the sheathe and the sword inside to Hanabi's hand, and it was taken with surprising delicacy.

Hanabi slid a few inches of the metal free from its sheathe, then she lifted an eyebrow as she ran her thumb along the exposed edge. "Hey, sis? I think it's broken." She showed her thumb to Hinata, disappointed by the lack of blood. "See? It's not even sharp."

Hinata didn't feel like explaining fully; she was too tired to think straight after all she had gone through. "It's supposed to be that way; Sasuke made it especially for me."

Hanabi frowned and shut the sword away, disappointed by the mundanity of a sword that couldn't even cut something. "That's not very fun." She handed the sheathe back to her older sister. "I've got good news, though; Father changed his mind! I can go with you to the festival for a day."

Hinata was baffled by the turn of events, but glad nonetheless. "That's so good to hear! I've been hoping that he isn't mad about yesterday."

At the mention of 'yesterday,' Hanabi sneered a little. She was trying not to show it, but she was still jealous of Hiashi's praise for her older sister. "He's not mad, his ego's just a little stained." She shrugged. "It'll wash out eventually. Come on, let's walk to your room."

Hinata gladly followed behind Hanabi. She was glad to be home again.

* * *

Sasuke stood atop a high building with his feet touching the steep edge of its waist-high concrete barrier. He looked down upon the village, thoughtfully listening to what he could pick up from the dizzying height. The night was oddly peaceful, or perhaps he simply missed a few things—Sasuke's ears were still flooded with blush after Hinata's awkward invitation. She wanted him to come inside with her—into her home, at night no less—practically ignoring any kind of fear of getting caught. Even if it really was to 'meet more of her clan', the whole thought made Sasuke feel nervous. The fact that Hanabi was hiding just on the other side of the wall with her ear pressed to the stone was a perfect reason to decline. If she hadn't been there, maybe he would have gotten carried away by the moment and said yes. Maybe he wouldn't have regretted it.

Even though it was twenty minutes later, he thought about going back to Hinata's house, but he had already made the night's exit. It was too late for regrets. He shook his head, trying to clear the blood that was rushing into his eardrums and drowning out his senses. Every night since his first case of incidental vigilante work, he had taken to the streets in search of petty crimes to put an end to—and every night he found plenty of them. Whether Kakashi and Naruto liked it or not, Sasuke was determined to do his part to keep Konoha stable. Thus far, he was proud of himself; no matter how angry a degenerate's actions made him, he had avoided killing any of them. It was practice, really; a great way to train himself to keep his emotions under control. For all his expertise in combat, he recognized that his volatile temper was a sharp and exploitable weakness.

His private thoughts on the matter were cut short as he heard a voice from the distance. It came from the general direction of his rented apartment, which was conveniently situated in the dirty part of town. A cry for help from that region was not altogether unexpected. Sasuke sighed and took a step off the side of his temporary perch, plummeting to the street below before launching into another long night.

* * *

 **Sorry for the wait again. Unfortunately, the next chapter will definitely have a fairly long wait as well. Most of you already know about my dad's stroke a couple of months ago and how busy I've been with doctor visits and general stuff to help him out. Well, during one of his recent doctor visits it was discovered that he needs triple bypass surgery, which is a pretty wicked heart procedure. He's been appointed to one of the best surgeons in the state, so the surgery itself should go fine—the problem is the recovery, which takes several weeks at minimum, and a couple of months more often than not.**

 **As you've probably guessed, that means that my writing time will be severely limited again. I'll do my best to find time, and if I do you can bet that I'll put it to use. I can't make any promises, though. Sorry! Someday everything will be settled and I'll return to a quicker pace, but right now I've got no choice.**

 **That said, thank you very much for sticking with the story thus far. I really appreciate all of the reviews and other feedback I've gotten from everybody. Let me know what you thought of this chapter, and feel free to PM me (or just leave a signed review) if you have any specific thoughts or questions that you want me to give a response to. Thanks again for reading! See you next time.**


	46. Memory

**I've missed you guys. Enjoy!**

* * *

Dust filled the air; the tiny pale particles were illuminated by a narrow beam of white light that sliced into the emptiness. A hollow-sounding scrape of old, wretched cardboard echoed through a tinny chamber stacked high with neglected shelves. The room was nearly devoid of life, deprived of electricity, and abandoned quite recently in fact. The hand upon the newly opened box was coated with a thin layer of musky particles, enough to make a sensitive nose sneeze. This nose wasn't sensitive, though; it was Shikamaru Nara's.

Comfortable in the dark thanks to his family's signature technique, Shikamaru took advantage of the night to do some digging in the nearly-obsolete records room of Konoha's Anbu. He leafed through the latest in a string of fruitless files, groaning to himself past the tiny pen-shaped flashlight that was clutched in his teeth. A folder was pried apart, and it smelled of fresh paper—filed once, then never opened again. Found within was the registration file of another documented member of the Anbu who had been sucked into Root by Danzo's political maneuvering. Once those unfortunates left the Hokage's custody, they were all but forgotten. An entire legion of nameless soldiers, completely unbound from the Hokage—and now from Danzo. It was no surprise to Shikamaru that the splintered fragments of such a fanatical organization might reshape itself to continue its ingrained mission, given enough time.

The reason for Shikamaru's nocturnal investigation was Kurenai. She came to him first, deciding that it was most important to tell him—Kiba Inuzuka was attacked and very nearly killed by a masked woman wielding Ice Release. A rare technique; if there was ever a Root member with access to such a coveted kekkei genkai, there would surely have to be a record _somewhere_. Of course, that's supposing that Danzo didn't discover her on his own without the Hokage's involvement. The former head of Root was notorious for his deceit; for every Root member listed in the countless files at Shikamaru's disposal, there must have been two who were completely unknown. It was a long shot, but this was only his first stop.

Just as Shikamaru slammed another box shut with annoyance, crumpling its stature irrevocably, he heard a different, weighty sound, like splashing liquid; it was coming from behind him. He deduced in an instant that it was Ninjutsu of some kind, headed directly for him. His reaction was fully automatic. Dropping his flashlight, he slapped his hands together to form seals. _Shadow Stitching Jutsu!_

Darkness took the form of sharpened tendrils, finding no difficulty in navigating the pitch blackness of the hidden basement. While his attack aimed for his prey, he continued to hear wet footsteps that were nearly silent. There was another being, an intruder and his pet, perhaps a summoned creature? Could it have been the ice woman? _Find the source,_ Shikamaru thought calmly. His shadows probed the room with great speed, and just as he suddenly felt a sloppy set of fangs against his throat and a shoving paw against his shoulder, he found soft and tender flesh with the tops of his shadowy needles on the other side of the room—the fangs did not bite, and the needles did not pierce. _Just in time; it's a stalemate,_ Shikamaru assured himself, though he was harshly slammed against the steel shelving behind him, sending precious crates of information scattering to the floor.

"You're good," the easy-going Nara spoke into the darkness after a grunt of impact, careful not to let his throat press too eagerly into the fangs that held him. Though he could feel the humanoid attacker on the end of his shadows, he could not see their face. "It's rare that I let my guard down," he spoke despite the snarling beast that had him shoved against the filing cabinet with its teeth threatening to spill plenty of blood with a single motion. "You picked a good time to strike. Bad news is, you'll die if you go any further."

A soothing, quiet voice came through the rusted shelves that separated the two adversaries. "Ah, it's you," he said, quite familiar. "Apologies, Shikamaru. I did not expect anybody else to be here."

The sharp and very _real_ canine fangs that were leaving divots in Shikamaru's flesh instantly vanished into a cascading puddle that soaked a patch of his green vest with black only knew of one ninja who used ink in such a way: "Sai...?" Shikamaru dispelled his own jutsu to release Sai's neck, but he waited until after the other's initial show of good faith. He knelt to the ground to pick up his flashlight, and he aimed it through the clutter. Despite countless layers of boxes, scrolls, and the wire-frame bookshelves that held it all, the pale face of Sai could barely be made out three aisles away. Shikamaru hummed hesitantly."What the heck are you doing down here? Aren't you supposed to be guarding the Hokage?"

A practiced smile pierced the tension and Sai tilted his head in that almost-mocking way he did. "It's not my shift right now. I'm here on personal time." He rubbed a hand over the front of his neck, the burning remnant of a sharp poke reminding him that Shikamaru was a considerable threat when he chose to be. Had it come down to a death match, he was unsure if his ink beast could have dealt a decisive blow before Shikamaru's shadows could return the favor. "Odd that I should find you here; many of Konoha's pertinent records are a part of the digital archives now, aren't they?"

Shikamaru nodded, tasting dust as he breathed softly to recover from the short burst of activity. "A lot of them, yeah, but not enough. This is a room that the higher ups would rather forget, but you're here too. That makes me think that we're both after the same thing."

"It's a woman called Miotosa," Sai said firmly. "I have a personal interest in figuring her out."

"You've heard that name, too?" Shikamaru's eyes narrowed. Sai seemed to know everything he did; perhaps it was too convenient that they would both arrive on the same night. "What about the other one? The man who attacked Hinata; you there when he was captured, weren't you?"

Sai's eyes narrowed slightly. Information in Konoha was not as compartmentalized as he would have liked. How many others knew of his involvement with Shell's imprisonment? "I was. Sasuke questioned him effectively, but Shell seemed to know nothing about Miotosa or any others. He obtained his orders through encrypted messages left with his belongings in secret. Based on his confession, he has never made personal contact with the _real_ enemy."

Shikamaru scoffed. "Our enemies are _all_ real. That's what's worrying me." He kept an eye on Sai with his hands tense. "Sorry, but weren't you one of Danzo's favorite lackeys before he died?"

Rightfully, Sai could have been offended by the choice of words, but he knew the methods. Suspect everyone, remain guarded. He closed his eyes without taking any insult. "I'm not loyal to him any longer, nor am I loyal to those who refuse to put their support behind the Hokage. Certainly not after Miotosa's actions."

"Her actions, eh? I didn't think you cared about Kiba." Shikamaru was fishing for information, but Sai could see it for what it was.

"Kiba? No, no; it's Ino." Sai replied without hesitation. An olive branch; proof of trustworthiness. Tell him something he didn't know already.

"Huh? Ino?" Shikamaru felt a chill down his spine. First the Hyuuga, then the Inuzuka, then the Yamanaka? The major clans all seemed to be targets. Worse yet, the younger heirs had been the priority thus far. It made him nervous: _Am I on the list as well?_ "What happened? Is she alright?"

Sai could feel the concern evident in the other's voice. Shikamaru and Ino were part of a legacy together, so the bond was hardly surprising. Ino-Shika-Cho would hardly be the same without each and every one of its parts. "She's fine for tonight, but she will remain at risk until this problem has been conclusively solved."

"I think we're all at risk," came Shikamaru's response, echoed through the thick dark. Minutes passed in near-silence, only broken by the sound of boxes and folders being studied. Shikamaru was losing hope fast; the files were meticulously detailed, yet there was little information known about his quarry beyond the presence of Ice Release. "So, did you ever meet this Miotosa person while you worked for Danzo?"

Sai shook his head. "No, she's not one who I'm familiar with, but Root was not an open organization—each of us knew only what we were required to know." A pause, then the uncomfortable realization that they essentially knew nothing. "They've been recruiting. I was one of their targets, as well. She came to me in the night and threatened Ino."

"What did you tell her?" Shikamaru thought he was onto something. "I hope you didn't say no; it'd be valuable if you could join them and act as a double agent for the Hokage."

Sai grimaced. "I thought the same. Unfortunately, she saw through me. It was odd; I never gave myself away, yet somehow she _knew_ that I would betray her if she recruited me. The first time we met, she seemed intent on earning my cooperation...then the very next time I saw her, she rescinded her offer. She said that I failed her 'test,' but I don't think that's the whole story."

"I don't like that," Shikamaru murmured as he turned back to the files, opening the next box. The scent of mildew hit him this time, and he groaned. "Gah, why can't she just be filed under 'M' with a full profile? This detective work is a real drag."

Sai puffed out a laugh and shut his eyes cheerfully. "It should be much easier soon, shouldn't it?"

Shikamaru rolled his eyes. "That's the idea, but moving over a hundred years worth of paper files into a digital database isn't as easy as it sounds." The project in question was a large part of why Shikamaru had been so busy lately. In the long term, the conversion would make all of the village's inquiries much faster and easier—at great initial cost: every single word of every single document had to be manually inserted into the system in order to make it accessible by a search engine. The team responsible was still several months away from reaching the documents Shikamaru currently held in his hand. Again, he shut a box and heaved a sigh. "Nothing on the name Miotosa; it's probably a recent call sign that's off the books...and all we have about Ice Release is a bunch of general information with a list of deceased users. Looks like Danzo had an interest in recruiting them before they all went and died on him."

Sai gave a nod, folding his arms thoughtfully. "Danzo had always expressed displeasure that the Mist chose to terminate the bloodline. As far as I know, he was never able to get his hands on one of the survivors as he planned. He left behind quite a to-do list, and it seems somebody else has picked it up." Sai took to another box, sliding a moist, flimsy lid open with a deft hand to begin rummaging alongside through its secrets with his fellow shinobi. "I can see why Danzo would want access to those techniques-it's a very dangerous power. Miotosa froze my ink without a struggle."

"She sounds troublesome." Shikamaru grimaced. "The other guy, the one you caught with Sasuke, he used Magnet Release, yeah?"

Sai nodded. "Yes; Shell. Unlike Miotosa, we have extensive records of his service, starting with the day Root was integrated into the Anbu."

"But not before?" Shikamaru grunted through clenched teeth, again holding his flashlight there while both hands busied themselves. "I'd like to know where all of these rare bloodlines are coming from. They're not native to Konoha, that's for sure."

"Mm. Danzo controlled quite an extensive enterprise before his death." Sai shut another pointless box. He had never expected to find anything worthwhile in the archives, but he was too antsy to sleep, and Ino had already returned to the protection of her clan for another night—his mind was too wild for painting, and he didn't know what else to do with himself, so he followed his first impulse. Company was unexpected, but not unwelcome. It was good to share his concerns with somebody who was in a position to do something about it. Sasuke was a valuable ally, but he was aloof and willful—Shikamaru was on the short list of candidates to be an adviser to the next Hokage. His cooperation was all but guaranteed, and there was scarcely any better status to be had when it came to investigative clearances. "From the Land of Earth to the Land of Waves, the former Lord of Root had interests installed everywhere."

"I guess it's too optimistic to think that they'll all collapse without his leadership, hmm?" Shikamaru clutched a promising folder belonging to a woman. Her profile noted Wind Release and Water Release specialization—the two components of Ice—but not much else to point a finger at. Black hair, green eyes, not unusual.

Sai glanced at the file in Shikamaru's hand and allowed a natural frown to weigh down his lips. "That one...I remember her." He also remembered the kunai that skewered her heart. At the time, his emotions had been muted, but now he could feel it as if it had happened all over again. Not sadness, but nostalgia. He had known many fellow soldiers without a permanent name, soldiers whose deaths were never mourned. His melancholy must have been similar to the feeling that urged Miotosa to let him off the hook. He was one of many abandoned children who were once destined to occupy unmarked graves. Things had changed for him, but they hadn't changed for everyone. "It can't be her."

Shikamaru saw the frown on Sai's face and creased his forehead. Wordlessly, he tucked the woman's file away and slid the boxtop into place again. He thunked both hands on top of the flimsy cardboard."Well, that's just about the last of them, then. I was hoping for some inspiration, but we really don't have any solid leads." He peered at Sai with a scheming smirk. "Unless...say, you wouldn't happen to know where Shell's being held, would you?"

Sai blinked once. He told the truth, but he didn't like where it was leading. "I know where all of my scrolls are. He's safely locked away."

"I'd like to see him for myself." Shikamaru said with a confident slant of his posture. "Maybe there's something we can find out from him; something Sasuke missed."

Sai had a momentary flashback to the fury unleashed by the muscular metal-man upon waking; Shell had only been stopped because of Sasuke's instantaneous reflexes and the overwhelming threat of his eye. "You don't think Sasuke's a thorough enough interrogator?" Clearly the young Nara hadn't seen what Sai had seen. It was a grisly thing, the look of fear in Shell's fearless eyes as Sasuke clutched his very soul. It was a new emotion, something that came raw and unwanted. Bulging and undulating, as if trying to escape through the sockets. Sai never wanted to see it again, but it haunted his memories.

Shikamaru picked up on the reservations, but he had his own line of thought to follow. "I think Sasuke's too used to being told everything he wants to know. If he's not looking deep enough, he could lose out on something obvious." Shikamaru recognized that he was really just grasping at straws. For an organization that had somehow infiltrated every level of Konoha's infrastructure, it seemed especially troubling that there was only one loose end—and that it took Sasuke Uchiha himself to make it dangle. "A guy can only say what he knows—maybe there's something Shell forgot, something he _couldn't_ say. I know somebody who can find all the hidden stuff."

After a short moment of thought, Sai knew that person, too. In fact, he had just left her at her door a short while ago. "Ino Yamanaka," Sai stated confidently. His precious friend belonged to a clan that was renowned for more than just flowers and beauty, he recalled. "She'll be thrilled."

With a raised brow, Shikamaru looked to Sai. "You think so? How much does she know about all this?"

Sai blushed partially, grateful for the darkness. "I've told her everything I know. Shell, Miotosa, the Hokage's concerns about trust and security..." Including things that he hadn't even mentioned to Shikamaru; if Ino chose to share the information with her team later, that would be her choice. Sai had never expected complete secrecy; he already knew about the risks of spreading information to a trusted friend. Everybody had 'just one person' whom they trusted more than anything, compounding together and adding up to a point where the entire village trusted itself and secrets were barely secrets at all. "She knows the risks, but she wants to help."

"Perfect." Shikamaru heaved a dense box of paper files back into its place on the tired metal shelf and stood up, clapping his hands together to free them from dust. "Let's go pay her a visit; she's usually still awake at this hour."

Sai gave a nod and turned around. One more time, he touched his fingers to his neck. No blood had been drawn, but for a moment he thought for sure that he was going to die to Shikamaru's counterattack. Sai wondered if he was actually afraid to die. He shouldn't have been. Danzo conditioned him otherwise. So why were his nerves so tense and uncooperative? He squeezed the fingers on his left hand into a fist to stop their trembling. "I'm glad you're on our side, Shikamaru. I hate to think about what the enemy would be capable of if they had a mind and skills like yours at their disposal."

"Maybe they do," Shikamaru mused against the compliment; his mind was occupied with the same uneasy feeling as Sai. He had briefly considered the unthinkable; Sai could have been there to kill or recruit him on behalf of the traitors. Maybe that was the case yet, and all the cooperation was just an act. Suspicion was hard to ignore, and one of Danzo's star pupils seemed like a good candidate for being in league with the enemy. That is why Shikamaru didn't lower his shadows from Sai's neck until the fangs were safely away from his own. _Trust, but don't be stupid._ That was the mantra of the times; friends could be traitors, parents and children could turn on one another. Carelessness was not an option.

Naruto had changed the Five Great Nations for the better...so why did it still feel like the world was at war?

* * *

As Shikamaru had predicted, Ino was still wide awake. When her home's front door was politely knocked on, she was the one to answer, and she beamed at the invitation to aid in the night-time investigation. Shortly after recruiting her to the cause, the trio of Ino, Sai, and Shikamaru arrived at a small Anbu outpost near the Hokage's mansion. It was a single-story gray brick building with no windows and one door, staffed by a lone guard who blocked the entryway with his body and wore a mask with a beak and three painted red stripes down each cheek. He was stoic and poised to defend the entry, but the moment he saw Sai's face on the approach, he took two broad steps to one side and opened the door. "Let me know if you need assistance," the man said with calm respect as he was passed by.

Sai, Shikamaru, and Ino entered the small building with little fanfare, but when the door closed behind them, Ino couldn't contain herself. "That guard didn't even ask questions; you must command a lot of respect from the Anbu, Sai." She was proud of him for being so well-regarded, but also proud of herself for achieving his interest. It was proof that she was as good a catch as she always knew she was.

Shikamaru smirked. "Of course he's respected; he's one of the Hokage's personal guards. They don't give that job to just anybody, you know."

"I wonder why they've never offered it to me," Ino pondered with a little huff. "Not that I want to do it, but...it'd be nice if it were offered."

Shikamaru snickered. "You're better off with me and Choji, anyway. Let somebody else take care of the Hokage. We're more suited to combat missions where nobody's going to get in our way. Sai is used to working alone and getting things done as efficiently as possible. That's what makes him better for the position than us."

Ino looked at Sai as he walked ahead in the tiny, empty room; he brought them through a second, unguarded door and then further down a set of metal stairs into a dark basement. Upon reaching the bottom, Sai flicked a switch on the wall and turned on a bright row of florescent tubes across the ceiling. Beneath the light was an archive, of sorts. Small, but tightly packed. There were tiny lockers all up and down both sides of the narrow hallway, with a single steel door positioned on the far end. Another guard was posted there who hadn't minded the previous darkness; his black robe and mask were quite similar to the man outside, though his false porcelain face bore green, yellow, and red dots which formed a triangle on the forehead. He said nothing, presuming that the surface guard had allowed the group inside on credentials alone.

"I've never been into one of these places before; what is it?" Ino wondered softly, her voice carrying through the sterile white hall.

Sai spoke too, but his soft and subtle voice did not echo. "It's a prison. Many shinobi are too dangerous to keep in a regular cell, so they are sealed away by some other method, and then their sealed forms are stored here under additional protection. This particular outpost is for prisoners of exceptionally high value."

"I guess that's why it's so close to the Hokage," Ino deduced, then got a chill while she walked past a locker; there were dozens of them on both sides of her, small and innocuous. Their little white doors and simple brass hinges did not seem like much. "So there are a bunch of criminals all around us right now?"

Shikamaru hummed in thought. "Seems kinda inhumane, doesn't it? Sealing people away like this?"

Sai shrugged his shoulders. "A shinobi should not let their humanity interfere with a mission's success. That is one of the basic rules, is it not?" He had that fake smile of his; an old habit that was constantly creeping up.

Ino frowned. "I guess so." Her sleeveless arms were tucked against each other; the basement was frigid and dry, probably in order to preserve the paper that sealed the prisoners. Ino was no expert, so she didn't know whether the decay of the paper would simply release the prisoners or if the rot would somehow destroy their body, but either case seemed like a bad outcome to her. "Where is the guy you want me to check out? Are you sure he's here?"

Sai gave a nod while reaching the end of the hall, only a few steps away from the secondary room with its silent guard. On the fourth column from the end on the right side, second row from the top, there was a tiny locker like all the others, and Sai placed his hand on its surface and began to weave a series of one-handed signs with his free fingers. The sound of chakra rushing into the steel was heard and then muted by the pop of some unseen mechanism. A regular lock was no good against even an amateur shinobi, therefore each and every tiny door was rigged with its own unique ninjutsu trap. The small painted-white door swung open attached to Sai's hand, and then he reached inside to retrieve the simple white scroll. It felt heavy in his grip, like he was suddenly inflicted by the weight of the situation. There in Sai's hand was the only man who could help them, and he was going to do it without knowing.

Sai then looked to the other guard and spoke cleanly. "I'll need the room," he stated with a natural authority. This guard nodded and stepped aside just like the other, but as he opened the interior door, it became evident that it was quite a production to unlock. It, too, had a unique seal upon it, which only the doorkeeper knew by heart. He performed its unique 'passcode' with quickness and skill, after which the visible lock slid out of place at his command.

The doorman pulled the enormous slab of metal open, revealing a plain white room that matched the hallway, save for the absence of lockers. At the room's center was a single gray chair complete with arm and leg shackles on its frame. The guard spoke curtly to the trio; he did not ask questions. That wasn't his job. He was there to monitor the safety of the interrogators, nothing more. "For that one, I would suggest leaving all of your metal equipment behind."

Sai nodded, unslinging the short blade from his back and setting his three pouches of kunai and shuriken aside on a small table designed explicitly for that purpose. Ino and Shikamaru nodded, then did the same. Without metal weaponry, they passed through the door frame and gathered around the central chair. Sai placed the scroll on the seat and unfurled it, then performed the handsign that released the seal. With a poof of smoke, Shell's body, pink and unarmored, came into full view slouched in the seat. He was still unconscious, as if no time had passed since Sasuke interrogated him. In truth, it hadn't been very long; a few days, perhaps. Still, Shell's existence in the mean time must have been a sad one. Sai was hit with an odd sense of guilt; Miotosa viewed this battered, broken man as part of her family. She wanted to know his whereabouts, probably even desired to save him. Sai knew that it could not be allowed to happen, but a part of him sympathized. If it were his own cherished comrade, he would stop at nothing to perform a rescue.

"He's big," Shikamaru said with slightly widened eyes. The muscles of Shell's arms looked like they had other muscles on top of them. The sound of the prisoner's breathing filled the room, even in his unconscious state. The door was closed and re-locked behind Shikamaru's back, which signified the beginning of the interrogation. Sai was already locking the shackles on Shell's damaged arms and wrists, as well as buckling his legs in.

"What am I looking for?" Ino asked as she cautiously approached the sleeping giant. "Are there any clues you want me to find specifically?"

Sai hummed. "Just perform a basic search of his mind. Look for abnormalities or forgotten details, especially centered around his attack on Hinata and the events that preceded it. Anything helps, but stick to the past couple of years. Looking any further back will be...unpleasant."

Ino nodded, frowning slightly. She had heard stories of the Root training program. Looking at Sai's relaxed composure, she never would have guessed at his history, but she knew that he went through the same nightmare that all of the others did. She gulped, taking her position behind Shell and setting her hands against his bald scalp. She closed her eyes and bit her lower lip gently. For a moment, she was quiet. Probing, nothing more. Poking at a few memories and hoping for something to emerge. She saw loneliness. Assassinations. Long days of boredom spent guarding the Hokage's door; he had intended to use the position for some nefarious purpose that never came about. Ino sensed Shell's resentment for the people he saw coming and going with smiles on their faces every day. "He loathes the happiness of the village," she said quietly. "He thinks it's a weakness."

Sai and Shikamaru remained stoic, prepared to jump into action should Ino's probing somehow rouse Shell from his genjutsu-induced slumber. Given that it was put into place by Sasuke's eyes, the odds of a reversal seemed slim, but no ninja was ever a ninja for long if they weren't prepared for the worst of every situation.

"I see him fighting Hinata." Ino's jaw opened a little. Undeniably, she was startled by the Hyuuga girl's fighting prowess. "It's...pretty impressive." She moved on, skipping completely past the carnage of Sasuke's assault; she found an image of a gloved hand picking up a note from inside a locker. "It's the message...I see it." She frowned, her brow creasing. "No, this doesn't seem right...this memory, it feels...hollow." She honed in closer, studying the recollection in detail. "I don't think this is—"she didn't finish her comment before a sudden spike of pain hit the front of her own head. "Nnghhh," she groaned, wincing as she almost lost her view of Shell's mind. Her knees momentarily buckled, but she remained standing.

"Ino!" Sai and Shikamaru both exclaimed.

She shook her head, sweating along her brow but otherwise back under control. "I'm alright, but it feels like I hit some kind of...barrier. No, not quite. It's something really strange; I've never encountered this before." _This will make you stronger,_ a voice whispered into Ino's ear. No, it was Shell's ear. But it was not really a memory, more like the remnant of one. A phantom that roamed through the wrinkles in the man's addled head. "I don't know what's going on...I'm seeing things, but they feel more like dreams than memories." She tightly squeezed her eyes shut, clenching her teeth. "It hurts to dig deeper; I can see glimpses, but they fade away immediately. It's like they've been erased and I'm only seeing the imprints left behind."

"Erased?" Shikamaru asked with a scowl. "Like with a seal, or some kind of genjutsu? Do you think you can reconstruct them?"

Ino winced. "N-no, I can't sense any chakra interfering with his thoughts. All of these echoes are focused on a single stretch of time; the time frame coincides with when he received a message in his locker, but...I'm trying to find more..." She was starting to breathe more heavily. The process was wearing her down, but she kept her fingers clamped on Shell's skull, squeezing her nails into his skin tightly to avoid losing her grip. "I see...a woman. I can't see her face, but she's...touching his wrist." A slender set of pale white fingers, gingerly wrapped around an enormous tanned forearm. Ino murmured listlessly, echoing the wispy, not-there statement in Shell's broken memory."This will make you stronger," she repeated. "Make him proud of me."

Shikamaru perked a disturbed brow. "Seems like Shell's got some issues."

Sai narrowed his eyes. "I don't think Shell is the one speaking...Ino, what do you make of what you're seeing?"

Ino was still deep in concentration, her hair fluttering against the flow of excess chakra leaving her system. It was all she could do to maintain her vision of the traitor's thoughts. "I think it's her...Miotosa...he _did_ meet her." She tipped her head slightly to one side. "And there's someone else...someone in the dark; it's a man." As soon as the sleek male figure materialized in her borrowed memories, Ino saw a shadowed hand reaching out to touch her forehead. Warm skin touched her brow, and then her own eyes jolted open and she leaped backward haphazardly away from Shell, letting out a shriek of surprise. Carelessly, her back and shoulder struck the solid wall of the interrogation room, and she held the quickly-bruising flesh tight within her hand. It hurt, but she was panting for another reason. "It was that hand," she shivered, forcing her speech through jitters in her throat. "I'm sure of it. That hand is what changed his head around."

Sai rushed to her side, putting an arm around her shoulders and one hand in hers while guiding her to sit down on the cold floor. "Are you alright? Whose hand was it? Miotosa's?"

Seeing that Sai was with Ino, Shikamaru stepped in closer to Shell and pondered. "That's a scary thing," he declared. "Rewriting a person's brain without using a seal or genjutsu..." Shikamaru put a hand under his chin and stroked his small goatee in thought. "Do you think that's why these kidnappers are aiming to abduct people like Hinata and Kiba? To rewrite their heads and turn them into allies?"

Sai nodded slowly, cradling Ino. She was rather shaken. "It seems likely," he said with a quiet voice. "But...if that were the case, why not allow me to join? Even if Miotosa feared my betrayal, a brainwashing technique like this could have been used on me to ensure that I never had the thought..."

Ino shook her head slowly, coming out of her momentary daze. Her hand clutched the chest of Sai's shirt for stability. "I don't think this man was brainwashed; not exactly...the rest of his thoughts are in perfect order, except for his recollection of how and where he got _that_." Ino pointed her finger toward Shell's right wrist; it was the small, black, circular mark. "Someone didn't want him to remember the people who gave it to him or what its purpose was, but they left everything else intact."

Sai looked to the mark, as well. "Sasuke has noticed that pattern, too; the kidnappers who attacked Hanabi had the same mark on their wrists, but both of their bodies were destroyed by infiltrators before any of us could properly study them. Then, when Hinata was assaulted, there were three other men with Shell who _didn't_ have the mark. What's more, Shell told us that he placed the symbol on his own wrist, so we wrote it off as a flimsy lead."

Ino nodded slowly. "He thinks that he did it to himself with instructions from his employer...and he doesn't seem to have any regrets about it at all, even in hindsight. I don't think he was manipulated or forced to do anything; it's as if the message in his locker was placed in his brain to play the exact same role as whomever he was speaking to—a perfect, one to one replacement. I think the memory erasure was done carefully, _surgically_ , to keep the stability of his mind and personality intact." Ino looked confused, and her hand came up to wipe some sweat out of her eyes. "It's like they cared about keeping him whole, despite the need for secrecy. It doesn't make sense; why not erase everything but the mission?"

"Careful or not," Shikamaru narrowed his eyes. "What kind of monster plays around with somebody's memories like that?"

Ino winced once more. "I don't know...I was lucky to see what I saw. The phantom memories only appeared as short flashes, constantly overlapping with the new memories that they were replaced with. It hurt me like a spike to the temple when I tried to look at them; it felt like I was trying to split my eyes in three different directions."

Sai gently laid Ino's back against the wall, then stood up. "Don't go back in; that's enough to work with. Right now we know of at least three living members of this group: Shell, Miotosa, and the other man in the vision. Last night, Miotosa told me that there is a new Lord who replaced Danzo—in light of that, our next step should be to capture Miotosa. She most likely knows more about the third member. We can hopefully follow a chain all the way to the top."

Shikamaru nods. "Yeah, but we'll have to find her, first. Naruto can take her down if we point him in the right direction, but by the way Kurenai was talking, this Ice Release user is a really skilled infiltrator ninja. No footprints, no scent, no sound—she can be wherever she wants and nobody would ever know. We don't even know if she's a native of Konoha; she could be an agent from some other village, trying to convince us that she works on behalf of Danzo's legacy in order to throw us off the scent."

Sai walked back over to Shell and gave him one last look, studying his extensive wounds and trying to imagine the scarring of his mind. "In any case, we should lock this one away again. I think it's dangerous to leave him exposed for too long."

Shikamaru leaned his shoulder against the wall beside the only exit in the room. "Yeah? Isn't this place secure?"

Sai peered over his shoulder to look back at Shikamaru. "Nothing is secure anymore."

Silence filled the room, save for Shell's steady breathing. Ino's probing had done nothing to change his position or state of being. She was a proper expert, just the woman for the job. Ino is the one who spoke up again to cut the tension. "Our bonds are. We can trust each other, all three of us." She had a hard gaze on Shikamaru, as if she could sense his distrust of Sai. "I trust Sai as much as I trust you, Shikamaru, and I hope you both trust me the same."

Shikamaru and Sai exchanged a short glance, with the Nara representative looking especially guilty. "Yeah," he huffed. "You're right, Ino. Let's try to keep this under wraps." He looked at Sai with a newfound reliance. "Sai, you should tell the Hokage what we found. Ino and I are going to fill in Choji."

Sai gave a nod. "And I'll tell Sasuke, as well."

Shikamaru once again got a twitch of doubt and suspicion, this time about Sasuke, but he choked it back down when he saw how Ino glared at him. _She's scary when she wants to be,_ he reminded himself. "Someone should tell Naruto, too. Maybe he can use his Sage sensing in some way to help us track down Miotosa."

Sai pursed his lips. "Right. I'll leave Naruto to you." _You know his emotions better than I do, so you can decide when and how to give him the news._ Sai then forced himself to stop thinking about Shell's situation; the more he considered, the more he realized that he was beginning to feel sorry for the man. Ultimately, Shell was a victim of his own upbringing, a disposable warrior who lived a childhood which Sai knew all too well. As Shell was abruptly sealed back into Sai's scroll, the artist closed his eyes and exhaled pitifully. Miotosa had gotten to him more deeply than he initially thought; he was beginning to empathize with the soldiers who no longer had a purpose. "Let's get out of here."

Shikamaru and Ino were quick to agree with him.

* * *

Sasuke sheathed his sword, standing over another vanquished thug on a darkened street. This one had a dent in his cheek, probably a broken jaw, and his consciousness had left him. Sasuke sighed slowly and reached into his hip pouch to produce a length of wire string. It was the aftermath of another one of the thousands of crimes he felt the need to stop. The quiet residential area that should have felt peaceful was in fact dark and foreboding; the man Sasuke saved had already run off at the very moment he was freed from the crook's grip. The now-unconscious mugger had then turned a knife toward Sasuke, and was even dumb enough to lunge at him with it. Sasuke could tell that the man wasn't a shinobi; he was hardly even worth being called a man . That is why there was a knife-hilt-shaped dent in his face. It only took a quick snap of Bansho Tenin to whip the implement back onto its wielder and end the conflict before it got out of hand.

With the cur tied up and moved safely off the beaten path to be discovered by patrols in the morning, Sasuke hummed to himself and shut his eyes. It was a calm night again, and the streets were empty in the home-dotted area he stood in. Most occupants were asleep, and even if they weren't, there was little reason to roam around. The lucky recipient of Sasuke's intervention was probably on his way home after a long and fruitful night of gambling, and thanks to Sasuke he was able to keep his winnings and make it to his door. It was a quiet night, after that.

Quiet nights were dangerous. When the villains were out in the open, they could be squished back down. When they hid in the walls, worming their way through the infrastructure, it was much more difficult. The only easy solution would be to burn the whole place down and build it again. That was Sasuke's idea of a revolution, the one that Naruto had talked him out of. Sometimes, though, Sasuke wondered if his previous plan would have been more effective.

"We've got our whole lives to make the world better," Sasuke spoke aloud to himself to dispel to the silence. "Isn't that right, Naruto?" In his head, he heard Naruto's reply- _'Damn right we do!'_ Loud and assertive, Naruto always seemed to get what he wanted. Because he was so uproarious and confident, it was hard for most people to see the hero's pain, but Sasuke knew it personally. He had seen it during their last battle; Naruto had lost more in his life than Sasuke had realized until then. There was a sadness unfathomable in Naruto, that day, but now he seemed truly happy. Was it Sakura who made it so?

Sasuke smirked. The two newlyweds were perfect for each other; there was nobody on the planet more capable of keeping Naruto in line than Sakura. With honesty in mind, even when he tried to calm Naruto down, Sasuke usually just encouraged the hothead to get even more intense in an effort to 'win' some imaginary contest. Sakura was the voice of reason to balance them out. Usually. Sometimes.

Sasuke found himself smiling and walking, enjoying the midnight breeze for a moment as it crossed his face. A twinge of hatred stabbed his chest; his unconscious memory could not ignore the familiarity. He thought of the night of Itachi's 'mission'. The cold, lifeless bodies of his parents. The image of their murder playing over and over again in his fragile mind. It would never go away; no matter how deeply he loved his brother and understood what happened, there was nothing that could wipe out the sorrow that befell his beloved family. He kept walking, but he was no longer thinking about the present. _What could I have done to save them? What could I have said that would have made Itachi change his mind? Who else is there to_ _blame_ _?_

It was Danzo, but Danzo had died. It was Obito, but Obito had also died. Madara had started the modern legacy of the Uchiha's powerful hatred, and yet he, too, was dead. Sasuke spent an hour pacing the streets and hating the dead, but there was no comfort in it. He felt tears welling along the edges of his eyes, but he stubbornly refused to let them fall.

He was home again, and that was why it hurt. On the road, he could forget. In the Land of Iron, he could roam the snow without a care and enjoy the uniqueness of the air. In the Land of Earth, he could sip tea with kind strangers and share stories and ideals. He could know people without feeling trapped by them. Here, in Konoha, every familiar face carried with it a string of painful and shameful memories. His mistakes, his failures, his heartaches, his betrayals. It was home, but it was hell.

He hadn't told Hinata, but the thought of rebuilding the Uchiha District brought him to the point of crippling agony. He told her that he would someday rebuild it, and that he wished to continue his clan, but when he was alone in the darkness it was impossible to forget the destiny of his blood. Rage, hatred, sorrow, loss, power, and betrayal. It was as if it had been written into his genetic code by Indra and made permanent. Sasuke no longer harbored those desires to betray or destroy, but his life had run a unique course. If and when the day came, what would the lives of his children be like? Would they experience hate, confusion, and jealousy? Would the emotions drive them to insanity, as had happened to him? Would his children become part of another generation destined to destroy itself?

No amount of reassurance from Naruto, Sakura, Kakashi, or even Hinata could fully dispel his doubts. They were carved into his soul, deeply enough to appear on both sides. He walked at street level, eyes closed, following the divots in the path toward his rented apartment. It was late; he had spent enough time cleaning the streets. Truth be told, the futility was wearing on him. He was fast, powerful, and intelligent, but he was no match for a bad situation. That's what he had learned about the criminals, at least on the street level; they weren't inherently terrible people, but they were driven and destroyed by greed.

Money was scarce on the low level of society, which is why so many had turned to gambling in the hopes of 'winning big.' In turn, their decline was hastened. It wasn't just a lack of employment opportunities that drove former shinobi and new refugees to become petty thieves; it was also the ease of access to a variety of ways to lose what little money they had: gambling, bad investments, and even robbery at the hands of others who had already lost everything. It was a self-repeating cycle, and it seemed like nobody was getting rich off of it.

The casino district on the edge of town was controversial at first, but it was eventually welcomed when it promised a large boost in village tourism and revenue. Everybody apparently had the occasional urge to gamble, and Lady Tsunade in particular was a strong proponent for its construction. Now that it existed, it seemed to exacerbate problems rather than solve them—yet most average people had no problem with its presence, as if they didn't recognize its role in tearing down the stability of the village. The flashing lights and bustling nightlife added a breath of fresh air to the changing region, and it was much closer to home than Tanzaku-gai. The refugees from the Fourth War in particular needed the distraction, and so the district's construction was expedited. It had only been a short number of years, but the effects were already being felt.

It wasn't all bad, admittedly. The winners certainly loved it, and the losers wanted nothing more than to get enough money for 'one more try' so that they could become winners, too. _What ever happened to the Three Ninja Prohibitions?_ Sasuke wondered to himself idly. He was almost to his apartment, and in no hurry. Along the way he heard the occasional murmur from around a corner, but it was peaceful to his ear. The closer he got to his residence, the calmer things became. Word of his actions on the first week of his stay had spread quickly.

"Sasuke Uchiha lives there, now," the rumor mill said. "I'd stay away if I were you. He busted up a couple of my friends—liked busted 'em _really_ bad—just for knocking on the door. Then he beat up old man Ryuza and refused to pay his rent!" Truth mixed with lies; specifically one part truth, two parts lie, _always_. It didn't bother Sasuke too much; it only meant that he was left alone.

He had gotten used to being alone. He spent his days with Hinata and he had allowed her to become a part of him, despite what used to be his better judgement. At night, though, he was with himself. Every evening he showered to clear his head, closed his eyes upon his bed, then softly went to sleep. Eventually, he had dreams of his family.

Whether he wanted to or not.

* * *

Hinata laid awake at night, restless yet exhausted. Her soft bed felt temporarily wonderful against her aching body, but her head was throbbing with too much information. It was always like this; Sasuke's training was more intense than anything she had ever experienced, but in the heat of the moment she was able to push herself past every limit she used to think she had. Once she made it to bed, though, it caught up to her.

Wide awake, she rested on top of her covers with both arms stretched out wide, palms turned up as if to vent the soreness out. She was breathing easily, but her throat felt scratched and dry, regardless of how much water she guzzled before bed. She had spoken to Hanabi for a short time; they talked about simple sisterly things. Giddiness over the upcoming festival, a bit of prying about Sasuke, and most of all about their father. He had been acting unusual lately, going from exceptionally harsh to uncharacteristically kind. Hinata assumed that he must have been under a lot of stress. She could relate.

She tossed onto one side, giving her back a break from the hurtful pressure of her feather bed. Even the comfort became difficult to bear after a while, thanks to her overwhelming fatigue. _It's the same every night,_ she thought. Even so, she knew that her condition was rapidly improving. The only reason she was tapped each and every night despite the extensive improvement of her stamina was the fact that Sasuke freshly adjusted his training to Hinata's upper limit every day. He never allowed her to escape with an easy afternoon, save for the two days after she was attacked by Shell. _It seems so long ago,_ she thought restlessly. _Sasuke's eye is incredible; it feels like months have passed, yet the tournament is still nearly a month away, just like it was before._ She didn't feel any older, but she did feel wiser. She had begun to really master her hand signs, and her ninjutsu was developing with remarkable swiftness, according to Sasuke's assessment.

She was proud of herself. She knew that if she were forced to fight Shell again, he wouldn't stand a chance against her. At least, that was how she felt. Maybe he was toying with her; maybe she never saw his true strength before Sasuke turned the hunk of iron into a shambled mess. A tremor went up her spine. She had tried to forget, tried to replace the images in her head with the softness of his protection, but the evil in Sasuke's stare was burned into some isolated place in her mind, only returning to chill her when she was alone in her bed with the lights off. She trusted him, but a part of her spirit knew that he was dangerous. One wrong note could send him into a frenzy. If someone were to hurt her again, Sasuke would probably kill them.

The thought was a guilty one. Her only recourse was to never get hurt again, but what kind of foolish 'plan' was that? The clock on her wall was ticking away. Three in the morning. She only had a few hours before the training would begin again. Her enthusiasm was at its lowest point in the daily cycle; this was the time when her body hadn't quite begun to recover, yet the day was already creeping toward sunrise. She had precious few hours to sleep and rejuvenate herself, then it was time to start again.

She smiled into the fluff of her pillow; she couldn't wait to learn something new from him. Each day made her skills considerably sharper, and it brought her heart that much closer to Sasuke. He had brought about a great change in her outlook on life. She looked at her fingernails, chipped and worn, yet clean from soap and water. She used to file them to keep them smooth each morning and night, but there had been no point in keeping up the practice since beginning with Sasuke. It would all be undone in five minutes. _I'll file them again before the festival; it will be a nice day off. Should I wear the same dress I wore to the wedding? Would Sasuke like that?_ She blushed and squeezed herself into her pillow a bit further, grateful that she had no makeup to smear against it. She knew that he would like it. She wanted to stun him; she wanted that night to be the night that he told her the real extent of his feelings for her. She had felt it for what seemed like an eternity, and she knew that he had felt the same. Neither could say the words; each had their own fears of what would happen if they did.

So Hinata hinged her hopes on that one night, that magical evening that would belong to the entire Ninja World. A meeting of every major village and all of its people, peaceful and fun. She imagined the balloons, the games, the musical performances, and most of all, she imagined the fireworks. She had always loved fireworks. She loved the sound, the spectacle. An explosion without pain or suffering tied to it; a burst of celebration and joy too big and bright to be contained. She admired their simple appeal as well as their complex design. She imagined a night of fireworks punctuated by a hug and a kiss and the confession she yearned for. Surely, it would be a perfect night.

* * *

For the next two weeks, which passed with a rapid pace, Hinata longed for the perfection she depicted in her mind. Days went by while she trained with her newly blunted sword, her new and experimental ninjutsu techniques, and her birth-given eyes. She grew stronger, faster, smarter; Sasuke applauded her progress, but Hanabi seemed increasingly jealous, which concerned the elder sister—thankfully, the festival had begun as a point to bring the two together again.

The villages had gathered, with the Five Kage and their bodyguards in prominent attendance—rather, most of them. Kakashi's appearances were often brief and ceremonial; he was caught up entirely by his work, even while the rest of the world took a break. For the first few days of the festival, there had been no problems or major incidents. Each morning and night, Hinata walked dutifully past the booming celebration on her way to Sasuke's training ground, despite a constant urge to make an appearance with her friends. _No, I promised Sasuke that I would devote myself to my training and nothing else. Our day off is almost here, and we'll both enjoy it more if we share it together completely fresh._

After some coordination with Hanabi and Sasuke, Hinata had pinned down the final day of the festival as the best time for all three of them to take it in. It would contain all of the biggest events and the the most special announcements about the fast-approaching tournament; on top of that, the fireworks were scheduled for that night in order to close off the celebration, as well as mark the beginning of the tournament.

Naruto and Sakura had continued their training together; Konohamaru became something of an unofficial pupil to them both as he continued to show up to their sessions and leech new information and ideas. It made Iruka proud to see the growth of all of his students, how they came together in the interest of friendly competition. It gave him a good feeling about the future.

Even the Daimyo of each major nation had elected to show up for the tournament, though in the interest of their safety, they were lodged in separate locations with the utmost comfort, secrecy, and security. None of them had shown up to the festival, for fear of an attack out of the crowd.

Sai found time to inform the Hokage and Sasuke about Ino's findings with Shell-though, curiously, nobody had seen any sign of Miotosa (or those of her ilk) since her attack on Kiba and her conversation with Sai; her existence slipped into the background as nothing more than a secluded phantom. Tensions began to ease again. Maybe there was nothing to her after all. Maybe she lost interest in Konoha and went to another land to spread her philosophy. Wishful thinking, it was, but such soothing thoughts were necessary to keep the mood elevated.

Sasuke was perhaps the person who was least excited about the festival; it meant spending time with Hinata, which was always a plus, but it also meant spending time with _everybody else_. He had a peculiar dread about what that meant. A sinking feeling that he couldn't pinpoint, a strange sense of hesitation that almost compelled him to stay in bed that morning. _If only Sakura didn't know where I live,_ he lamented lazily. He knew that if he didn't show up at least once for the week-long festivities, he would have to answer to her—and probably Naruto, too. With that thought in his mind, and aided by the constant desire to see Hinata's smile, Sasuke woke his groggy self out of bed and stepped into the small shower. He had a lot of cleaning up to do if he intended to impress Hinata. It was six in the morning; he and Hinata had promised to meet one another at the festival gates at noon sharp. That gave him six hours to do some last-minute shopping and preparations.

So began the morning of the last day of the festival. An all-encompassing sensation fell over the village; it was if everyone knew that it was going to be a night to remember.

* * *

 **So there you have it. As you've probably guessed, the next chapter will kick off the festival 'arc.' It's finally getting under way; I know a lot of you have been eager to see this part of the story come to fruition, and I hope that you won't be disappointed!**

 **And now for a bit of apology and explanation—I didn't mean to take so long with this chapter, but as you probably remember from the end of the previous chapter, my father had surgery on July 5th. The initial surgery went well, but there was a serious complication three days later that required a second, more extensive emergency surgery to fix. During (or before) that surgery, my father had another stroke (his second since April) which has severely hindered his vision and moderately hindered his cognition. As a result, he has been having difficulty with day-to-day activities like working his TV, making food, using his computer, shaving, etc. Aside from the cognitive and vision difficulties, he's doing well. His heart is in good shape and he's getting back into decent physical condition. He can still talk, walk, and do simple things; he's not completely disabled, but he has a lot of confusion and problems when it comes to complex thought and finding objects on his desk, shelf, or table.**

 **Because of this, I have been living with him in his apartment to help him out. There are a couple of problems with that—first off, until about two weeks ago, I didn't have access to a laptop (and his computer is terrible; slow moving, lots of crashes, etc.) so I had no easy way to write or do homework. Now, fortunately, I have a great new laptop, and that's how I've been typing this. Second off, because my father needs a lot of assistance doing everything he does and there are tons of doctors to see, I have very few stretches of time completely to myself—it's difficult to get much sleep with what's been going on, let alone uninterrupted writing time. With school in full swing (and a particularly difficult and time-consuming math class on the agenda) I have had a lot of trouble finding time for a new chapter.**

 **Don't fear, though: I promised a lot of people over the past year (and longer) that I would never abandon this story, and I maintain that promise. I never even wanted to take a break in the first place, but circumstances keep rising up to get in my way. I'm supposed to be typing up an English mid-term right now, but I couldn't keep myself from writing a chapter any longer. I _had_ to do a new one for my own sanity! It feels so good to get back into it. Sadly I don't know how long it will be before the next one, but I don't think it will be three months again. **

**Any questions, concerns, or comments about the story? Leave a review (my favorite) or send me a PM (also my favorite). Thank you so much for sticking with the story, and I hope you enjoyed the chapter (and enjoy what's coming even more).**

 **Now I have to actually do my mid-term paper. Thanks again for your interest! I'll see you next time.**


	47. Special Occasion

**Enjoy!**

* * *

The sun hadn't quite risen yet, but the day had begun. Orange color began to flood out the darkness, banishing it from the sky in a slow creep like melting ice. Two figures stood atop a tall, half-built skyscraper, left temporarily unattended behind the cliffside above Konoha. All village expansion had ceased until the tournament arena's upgrades had been completed. The two figures were looking down upon the village in the half-dark, sizing up the situation as a whole. A man and a woman, both in plain clothes, standing on opposite girders jutting out from the skeletal structure. The woman spoke, holding her authority high. "Each of the five major Daimyo are present in the village this morning, correct?"

The man nodded his head, arms folded over his chest. "That's right; the Water Daimyo arrived under cover of night just a few hours ago. They're all here."

"Lucky him; he won't miss the fireworks." The woman thought it would have been correct to smirk, so she did it. She presented an image of herself which she thought was the most appropriate. No matter how hard she tried, she could not show a true emotion; she had been convinced for years to believe that she did not have a single genuine feeling to show. All she said and all she did was an act, practiced and repeated over and over, just as she knew her companion's replies were part of an act as well. "The village is sleeping. We could kill the Daimyo right now and cause a great mess. Do you know where they are?"

"We're following the plan. No exceptions." The man's answer was quick. He spoke firm, even though he was clearly a subordinate. The woman was his superior, but his leverage was that they both answered to a greater force: "You won't impress him by disobeying orders, Mio."

Miotosa curled her upper lip in a faux snarl, peering at the male with her ice cold eyes. "Careful what you say," she answered flatly. "I'm feeling restless. It's been too long already since I've been free to act my way."

The unnamed man chuckled in a rehearsed fashion. His mannerisms indicated him to be a child of Root, but fully grown and well muscled. Not tremendous, but properly athletic and wearing a sleeveless brown vest to prove it with his tanned arms. Tattooed under the skin of his right wrist, on the inside curve, there was a black splotch that resembled some kind of sigil. "At least you've _been_ free. He's holding most of us back for the sake of subtlety."

"We'll all have our chance soon enough, but I suppose it's important to wait after all." Miotosa winked at him; she understood that she had been the one who suggested acting out of turn, yet she also knew it was meaningless. Going against the Lord's plan was identical to accepting defeat. Despite Miotosa's bluster while recruiting in the wild, she knew that her group was vastly outnumbered. "We'll need the pieces to fall into place _perfectly_ , or else we'll be crushed. He told me so last night. If all goes according to plan, however...we'll succeed without a single casualty on our side."

"That sounds too good to be true, but I believe you. Our esteemed Lord has never been wrong before." The green-eyed man looked out over the village thoughtfully. "We're lucky to have him, but sometimes I think we need him a hell of a lot more than he needs us."

Miotosa frowned unintentionally. ' _He was expendable. They're_ _all_ _expendable. Even_ _I'm_ _expendable. What matters is that the_ _mission_ _survives.'_ Her leader's words were always looping in her head. Expendable. That's what they were. Every one of Danzo's forgotten lapdogs. That must have included her, as well, right? The way he had often worded that statement, spoken to her in the same way dozens of times over the years, bothered her. He had never said ' _you_ are expendable.' In a strange way, it made her feel like an outcast. "We're all expendable," she said methodically. "Even he is expendable. What matters is that the mission survives."

The practiced mantra seemed to shut down the conversation. The answer came in a monotone that dulled the man's vibrant voice to a thin line. "The mission survives," he echoed with a nod. "I'm ready to do my part. Are you?"

Miotosa nodded, then moved her hands together in a unique sign to activate her ice release. "We'll meet up later, as planned." She scattered quickly into a thousand snowflakes, going to someplace that must have been important. Her companion followed suit, performing another unique, different sign. He vanished in a quick flash of yellow light, timed perfectly with the encroaching sunlight as it peaked over the horizon and painted the highest buildings in the village with its warmth.

* * *

The long night slowly transitioned into a long morning for the Sixth Hokage. His pen was wildly swinging, etching and inking paper laid before him to either cement or shatter an infinite number of ordinances and requests. The dawn came peeking through the window slats behind him, covering the rear of his dark vest with thin lines of the sun. He heaved a quiet sigh, turning his head away from the window and lifting his mask up to cover his face. He ran a hand up through his stiff hair and squeezed a thick, unruly tuft with a grumble. "I could use a shower," he groaned, barely conscious from a lack of sleep and an excess of tension.

"You could use a lot of things," Shizune groaned with a quiet yawn of her own, murmuring from a chair in the corner. She had settled her head against the wall for a nap nearly an hour ago, but it was tough to sleep through the sound of the Hokage's busy writing and stamping hands. "You've missed every day of the festival so far," she reminded him with a strained voice, stretching her arms out.

Kakashi hummed dismissively. "I've made enough appearances to please the people. Besides, these proposals are more important for the village's economic future than my token attendance down there." He transitioned quickly, hoping to change the subject before the predictable retort from his assistant. "This trade agreement in particular is almost ready."

It was no good. "I think you meant to say that your _clones_ have made appearances." The dark-haired Shizune took on a stern tone, then after a pause she sighed and shut her eyes, squeezing the bridge of her nose to try to wake up. "I'm not talking about PR this time, Lord Hokage; I think you need a real break, for your own sanity. Why not visit the festival in person tonight? You're way ahead of schedule as it is."

"I'm not ahead of schedule as long as there's still work on the desk," Kakashi answered. "The festival team is handling that side of things perfectly well on their own. I'm better off staying here." And it was true; so far the only incidents that had risen from the festival were some false security concerns that flew under the public radar. Things like suspicious figures who turned out to be no threat; unusual bags left unattended that belonged to harmless, forgetful visitors. Tension was thick, but it hadn't snapped. There were no incidents of wide-spread panic or violence.

As the festival had gone on, the air in Konoha actually seemed to thin out compared to the start. On the first day of the festival there had been an aura of dread and mistrust; the old rivalries which had been dissolved during the war were slowly turning solid again, establishing new footholds in the minds of old enemies. The anger had never vanished completely, it had simply been masked by optimism and necessary teamwork. Day two of the event was easier, especially when the merriment kicked in as scheduled. Music, games, food, all coming together from different cultures to mix into a single celebration. It was a good bonding opportunity from village to village, especially for the average citizens who rarely traveled outside of their comfort zone. The festival was the first chance to test the feasibility of the tournament itself—it was deemed best to get the kinks of intermingling village citizens aired and ironed out _before_ the deadly ninjutsu began to fly in the arena.

Times had changed since Kakashi was a child. He wished that Obito could have seen the new world. Perhaps he _was_ watching, along with Rin and Minato, from some corner of the afterlife. The thought kept Kakashi motivated, but that wasn't all there was to his urgent pace. Kakashi's first year as Hokage was a predictable period of slacking and reluctant acclimation; the workload had been unreal and he was truly unprepared for it. To satisfy his laziness, he had rapidly developed a habit of sneaking away from his office to relax in the trees with a novel. Those days lasted for some time, but then the prospect of grooming Naruto to take the position from him in the future arose, trickling down from the highest ranks of the Land of Fire leadership. ' _Never too early to start laying the groundwork_ ,' they had said to a pensive Kakashi. ' _You had best set a good example for him_.'

And so Kakashi began to work harder, spurred on by the future. Before long, the enthusiasm became his own imperative, no longer just a token attempt to please the ruling body of the country—though the pandering was useful as well, given that it was those ruling lords who provided Konoha's funding in the absence of major missions. The Sixth Hokage had suddenly begun to take his job seriously, just like all the others who had formerly held his position. Pride and responsibility seemed to befall everyone who sat in the chair, regardless of their hesitation. Lady Tsunade was a wonderful example of that.

From Shizune's corner of the office, the assistant admired Kakashi's work ethic. The constant effort was a taking its toll, but the Hokage allowed very little sign of it to show to his visitors. Shizune took her role as seriously as Kakashi took his, and due to experience, she could see the signs of fatigue manifesting in the veteran warrior. Years of battle had made him both tougher and wearier, and the deadly combination was bearing fruit. The bags under Kakashi's eyes, the occasional mistakes on the paperwork which Shizune constantly double checked; subtle, but worrying. The volume of tasks had become too large, too constant. The village had never before seen such a massive surge of activity and foreign interest as what had manifested shortly after the war ended.

Members of other countries wished to open new businesses in Konoha to solidify trade agreements; immigrants and refugees wished for proper citizenship to the Land of Fire, and they were pleading with the Hokage to make it happen—despite the fact that the final decision rested on the desk of the Daimyo and his colleagues. So many things, from so many people; eventually it all became a blurred haze of 'help me; give me; promote me; let me.' Despite the plethora of overlapping problems, Kakashi did everything he could to provide for everyone who asked him for help. He had become so wrapped up in the process—especially following Naruto's wedding and the invention of the fast-approaching tournament—that he neglected to realize that it was his own body that needed his help the most. Rest, relaxation, stress relief of every kind had been neglected.

Breaking the contemplative silence, Kakashi stamped an unsealed envelope and spoke out. "Please see that this gets to Ebisu," he instructed, already writing with one hand on the next order while holding the stamped envelope out with the other. "We'll need twelve large-sized, clearly-formatted copies posted around the arena grounds."

Shizune perked up a little bit, shaking her head to finally dispel the dizziness of sleep as she stood up. "Right away, sir." She popped over to Kakashi's desk with a bouncy step and grabbed the package, sliding the paper out for a quick snoop. Brackets and numerous names; handwritten in a hurry. "Is this the final version?"

"It is," Kakashi confirmed. "The logistics took longer than I expected."

Shizune's eyes couldn't resist going on to scan each page like a voyeur, becoming the first person other than the Hokage himself to learn of the contents. Who was going to face whom in the first rounds of each tier? Was there a pattern? A theme? She pored over the details, and the author made no protest. The contents were going to be public within hours; what was the harm? "Interesting choices," Shizune declared with a pleasant smile. "I see where you're going with this..." She traced her finger down a line, following an imagined progression in reverse until her digit landed on the name 'Sasuke Uchiha' at the bottom. The assistant looked at her superior with a sly gaze. "Trying to keep him interested until the end?"

Kakashi nodded again, knowing exactly who Shizune had been referring to. "That's right. He's the only participant who needed to be coerced; I'd rather not risk him walking away in the middle of it, since that would be a disaster for everyone. Worthy opponents only." He smirked beneath his mask. "Except for one, but that's another issue."

Shizune nodded. "Yeah..." Just one space to the left of Sasuke's first match with Lee was a pair of names that seemed odd to her. _Shino Aburame vs. Kiba Inuzuka_. One of the two of them would go on to fight Sasuke—or perhaps Lee, in the event of a stunning outcome—in the second round. "What's that about?"

Kakashi shrugged. "Kiba has been raising hell about Sasuke for a long time now. I think giving him a chance to 'work it out' on a moderated battlefield will do some good for both of them."

"Assuming Kiba can beat Shino," Shizune added. "What do you think?"

Kakashi shrugged a second time. "We'll see. Shino came to me and asked for a chance to stop Kiba from embarrassing himself. If he manages that, I expect him to drop out of the tournament afterward."

Shizune hummed. "He's pragmatic; I doubt he's as eager to fight Sasuke as Kiba is."

Kakashi looked up to the ceiling, tapping the back end of his pen idly against the desk as he recalled. "Kiba is going through some difficulties...short of knocking some sense into him myself, this is the best way I can think of to give him some perspective. He's never seen Sasuke's real strength up close, and he probably hasn't had a good talk with him either. He's got a lot of resolve, but he's scrappy and impulsive—he has no idea what it means to 'pick his battles.' He's a lot like Naruto used to be."

Shizune's expression softened. "Without the strength that Naruto eventually obtained...It must be hard for Kiba to watch so many of his classmates pass him by. He tries just as hard as anybody."

"Harder than most," Kakashi affirmed with his nose deep in paper. "Even though he was attacked and wounded badly, Kurenai told me that he was back to work the next day, more determined than ever."

"We'll see if it paid off," Shizune said to end the topic, moving on to the next battle of interest. "You're putting Naruto up against Darui first?"

Kakashi nodded. "Of course; they're both top candidates to become the next Kage of their villages. It'll give them an opportunity to feel each other out. They're going to be deciding the future of the world together someday. We can't throw them into a situation like that without getting them duly acquainted, first."

Shizune nodded. ' _Deciding the future of the world_...' There was a time just after the war when people thought for sure that peace had already been achieved. The rush of success overcame everybody, including Shizune herself. Even the reviled Sasuke Uchiha was granted a pardon by riding the wave of ecstasy that came along with a solid victory. In those fleeting days, the future had already been decided. Things were going to be perfect from that moment forward. Reality didn't set in until months later, when reality fell on the desk in the form of an official report. Entire cities had been destroyed by the Juubi; thousands of farms, storehouses, and mines obliterated in regions all around the world. Efforts to rebuild began almost immediately, but without reliable resource productivity, the projects sometimes proved difficult.

"Why do you think they destroyed so much?" Shizune wondered out loud, having forgotten what they had been discussing that made her recall the horrors of war again.

"Hmm?" Kakashi set his pen down and looked at Shizune with soft, concerned eyes. "What are you talking about?"

Shizune looked at him and smiled, shrugging off her own question. "Oh, nothing. I'll bring this to Ebisu right away." She waved the envelope to prove she hadn't forgotten, then hurried out the door, quickly closing it behind her. A second later, the door clicked open again and she called in through the crack. "If I'm not back soon, don't forget that you've got a meeting with the elders in fifteen minutes."

Kakashi sighed, leaning back in his chair and closing his eyes. The elders. No doubt they were going to take yet another opportunity to explain why the multi-village tournament was a bad idea. Their habit of clashing with every change the world had undergone in recent years was beginning to wear on the Hokage. "Yeah...how could I ever forget _that_?" He rubbed his temple, wishing he had gotten some sleep. It was going to be a long day. Maybe he would take a break and head down to the festival after all.

* * *

Sasuke was clean and shiny as he stepped out of his apartment, checking the loose number 7 on the outside of his door to ensure that it hadn't been knocked upside down again. He looked out from the tiny 'porch' that lined the front of the apartment building, then to the wide expanse of empty concrete that was probably reserved for expanding the structure if necessary. Though the sun had only just risen, the light pushed through the trees and dotted the gray pavement in whimsical patterns. Sasuke couldn't resist a smile; it was good to appreciate the peaceful moments. Nothing felt out of place or dangerous. He felt no need to look over his shoulder for threats.

The neighborhood had improved, even if only a little, as a direct result of his actions on the first night of his stay. As he stepped out from his apartment and began toward the street, he noted that Ryuza, the chubby landlord, was standing behind his small dwelling along the perimeter. Actually, more than standing—he was dutifully sweeping away the gravel, stray leaves, and dirt that had accumulated on the concrete since the day before. He noticed that Sasuke was looking at him, and he didn't stop sweeping but did take a moment to regard his favorite and most terrifying tenant.

"Good morning, Mr. Uchiha; you're up early today. Special occasion?" Though he was taking good care of the grounds, a miracle in itself, the more stunning thing was his garb. The crooked con artist used to dress in greasy shirts and tattered shorts, whether inside or out, but here he stood in a clean, white suit with a matching tie; it was all cheap looking to Sasuke, but effective none the less. Topping the unusual tone shift, he wore a name tag. 'Hi, my name is Ryuza.' Even his voice, normally gruff and careless, had a sunny flavor that made Sasuke's eyebrow twitch.

Sasuke stopped for a moment, unsure of how to process what he saw and heard. Even though he knew his 'talk' with the landlord had been effective, he hadn't expected it to yield such a drastic change; so suddenly, too, after several weeks of nothing. "This is unsettling," Sasuke said under his breath. "If you're up to something underhanded, I'm going to find out sooner than you think. Don't forget what I told you."

Ryuza gulped, and began to sweep faster. Sweat poured down the front of his bald face. He swept the same spot of pavement left and right a hundred times; it had been clean for a minute and a half but the man holding the broom was too nervous to take a step. "O-of course, Mr. Uchiha. You see, when I was uh...'appropriating extra rent' from the tenants, they didn't stay long, you know? Didn't have to keep things tidy for anyone, you know? Now that, uh...that isn't happening anymore—a _nd I swear to you it isn't happening_ —I actually have to, you see...keep people happy." His voice got smaller with each word, as if the admission had been impossible to give, yet he forced it out. "Money's coming out of my pocket, now. That means I've gotta run this place like a real business." He looked like a new man, but a very, very frightened one. "M-might I take a moment to say that you've been a spectacular resident so far, Mr. Uchiha? You never cause trouble and I haven't had a single complaint from your neighbors!" He laughed out loud, boisterous and awkward, rubbing the back of his head in the only place left with hair.

Sasuke grimaced. Change was good, but the crook still put off a bad vibe. After a moment of uncomfortable silence, the only thing the 'spectacular resident' could think to say was "Don't slack off," and then he turned to walk away again. A sigh of relief came from Ryuza; he was off the hook for now and eternally grateful for it. Sasuke felt as if he didn't have time to waste dealing with the unusual circumstance; as odd as it was, he couldn't deny that it meant good things for the other people who chose to live in the hellhole that was his 'neighborhood.' Word had gotten around, possibly, that Sasuke—or at least a very scary man with an aggressive sense of justice—was living in the complex. Crime in the immediate surroundings dropped sharply as a result.

Sasuke's first stop of the morning was Ino's flower shop. He didn't know if she would be there, or if another member of her clan might be filling in, but he only needed a single flower. He didn't care who sold it to him. As he got out of the slums and closer to the flower shop, activity on the streets picked up. Even so early in the morning, the festival had invigorated the village. Sasuke kept a low profile in his movements, but he was wearing his preferred lavender shirt with a high collar. On the back, a proud Uchiha crest was prominently displayed. Those who cared to look would know precisely who he was, and he didn't mind that. He was growing more comfortable in his own skin when walking through the village. In a very real way, the populace seemed to be getting used to him as well. Rumors of his return had been spread quite thoroughly, and the shock of seeing him in the village was softer and softer each time he roamed about.

He cherished the peace again when he reached the door of the flower shop. Business was actually booming; Ino's plan to pass her flowers around at the festival along with an advertisement for her shop must have paid off. Sasuke had to weave past an exiting couple in order to get through the door, and the low clamor of customers filled his ears. Several people were on staff; it seemed the last day of the festival was a favorite day for men who intended to impress a would-be girlfriend, as there were surprisingly few women in the shop who weren't wearing employee uniforms. Sasuke scanned the small showroom and spotted Ino behind the counter, helping a poor sap who lacked even a lick of confidence. Ino went beyond the call of duty, selling him the 'proper flower' for his situation, then further showing him the right way to hold it when he offered it to his potential lover, and even further than that helping him with his slacked posture. The guy looked positively ecstatic after being helped, and with a huge grin he stomped out of the shop with tremendous confidence.

Sasuke tried to stay subtle behind a flower rack, but Ino must have been able to smell his hesitation. She cut her eyes in his direction and quietly asked for one of the other workers to fill her spot at the counter. She smoothly vaulted over the top of the glass display case and grinned broadly, toothily, looking right at Sasuke as she approached him with her arms clasped behind her back. "Sasukeeee," she dragged his name out slyly. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you were here as a customer this time..." She had a voice that was always teasing, never clueless. She spoke in a way that made Sasuke wonder if she could read his soul just by sampling the scents in the air around him.

The Uchiha felt himself gulp without meaning to. _I'm predictable, aren't I? All these people here buying flowers, and I'm just another one of them...is this really the best I can do?_ He made a conscious effort to square his shoulders as Ino got close enough to whisper. She didn't speak loudly enough to call attention to him—the name alone would have caused the aura of the shop to change. She knew better; this was a place of joy and bright colors. There was no room for dread. Sasuke swallowed his misgivings and nodded. He wasn't blushing, but it took a conscious effort to keep his blood flow regulated. "Yes...I'm here for a flower."

Ino's cheeks were then colored shamelessly pink, biting her lower lip with anticipation. "You, Sasuke Uchiha, buying a flower? Now that's a special occasion..." She eyed him over, briefly, as if searching for clues. "Which flower are you interested in?" She pushed her upper body out a bit, as some force of flirtatious habit, and canted her head to one side.

Sasuke could feel the tension in the air between them, but he wasn't really attracted to her display. The tension was more the result of awkwardness than anything else, so he quickly turned his eyes away, toward a high shelf. A bloom he had seen before, the last time he came to visit. "That one. You said it was called a violet, right?" The fluffy, veiny, purple petals, five in all, seemed to call to him. The flower had been on his mind against his will since the moment he laid eyes on Hinata the first time. It seemed like a meaningful sign, so Sasuke took it as one. "I only need one."

Ino blinked and blushed deeper. She hadn't forgotten Sasuke's last visit any more than he had. She grew a knowing smirk. "That's a little cliché, isn't it?" She turned her eyes down toward the floor with an unusual lack of confidence.

Sasuke was lost, and it showed on his face. "Cliche? What do you mean by that?"

Ino giggled playfully, lifting a shoulder and bringing a hand to her lips to cover her laughter. "Oh come on, Sasuke; a purple flower? You're the one who called Naruto's pink flowers for Sakura a cliché..." She looked up at Sasuke with fluttering eyelashes. "You picked a violet because I wear purple, didn't you?" She was trying to be smooth, unassuming—and in the process, she assumed everything.

Sasuke blinked, looking down at Ino's outfit. He would have called its color violet, once he thought it through. Then it clicked. "Y-you...Ino, you don't think I meant..." He finally blushed, realizing the cost of his secrecy. He couldn't make eye contact anymore. He backed awkwardly up to the shelf behind him, shaking up some empty pots.

Ino kept right on with her misconception, falling deep into the groove of her fantasy world. "Y'know, Sasuke...I'm _really_ flattered, but..." She had a regretful tone, though it seemed like a bit of an act. Was she trying to make Sasuke jealous, now that the shoe seemed to be on the other foot? "Sai has been courting me for months...it would be scandalous if I were to take a flower given to me by another man..." She smiled confidently up at him, her fingers wringing against each other. "Even if it's you." After a moment of thought, she bit her lower lip once more. She was getting carried away. "Then again...if..."

Sasuke raised a hand, frantically waving it side to side in front of Ino's face to try to quickly snap her out of it, doing his best to keep her from saying something she'd regret. "Hey, I'm trying to tell you that it isn't for you."

There was a nearly-audible sound of Ino's bubble bursting. She looked disoriented for a moment; she had just been ripped from one world into another and was trying to readjust to reality. "W-what? Not for me?" She tried to blink away the glitter in her vision, seeing Sasuke with a bit of irritation. "Hey! That's really damn rude! Making a girl think you're going to buy a flower for her, letting her get so carried away..." She was flustered, a vein nearly bulging from her forehead. Just a little bit more anger and shame and it might have formed.

Sasuke cleared his throat, trying to keep enough dignity for the both of them by holding his posture strong. "I didn't think you'd be so..." _Don't say selfish, don't say selfish, don't say selfish._ "Presumptuous." He peered at her face. No change in the forecast. "Besides, why would I buy a flower for a woman who owns a flower shop?"

There was the vein. It bulged out of Ino's head like a thick flower stem imprinted onto her skin. Her hand went to Sasuke's collar, clutching it tightly and winding up her right fist as if she intended to punch him through the aisles. "It's about the _gesture_ , Sasuke! Come on, don't you know anything!? I always thought you were so _cool,_ and _romantic_ , but...but you..." She drifted off as she realized people were staring, including her own workers. "You..." She cleared her throat and went quiet, dropping her hand from Sasuke's collar and waiting a moment until the focus of the customers went back to the flowers, where it belonged. "You really are clueless about how to be romantic, aren't you?"

Although internally Sasuke felt like he had been doing a decent job of gaining Hinata's affection so far, he had to admit that he had been winging it the whole time. Any turn could have been a disastrous mistake, but by some stroke of luck or fate, he always managed to do the right thing. Or, at least he thought so. He couldn't read Hinata's mind to know, regardless of how many times he had brought her consciousness into an alternate reality with him. "I...think you might be right, Ino." He looked around briefly, thankful that he hadn't caught any undesired attention himself. His voice was a whisper. No reason to keep secrets from Ino, but the public at large was another story. "Maybe you could give me a few pointers? I want today to be special."

Ino blushed deeper than before. "You...want it to be special?" She felt the jealousy right away. Some other woman was getting Sasuke's attention? So much of it that he wanted to have a 'special' day with her? On the outside she was dumbfounded and blank, but on the inside she was wrestling with all kinds of feelings. Anger, curiosity, ambition, jealousy (of course), regret, enthusiasm. Most importantly, she saw an opportunity. It was time to put her skills to work. Placing one hand on each of Sasuke's shoulders dramatically, she put up a confident grin that made the young man worry. "Sasuke...since it's my responsibility to cultivate new love whenever I have the chance, I'm going to take this morning off and I'm going to set you on the path to the greatest day of your life."

Sasuke swallowed hard, feeling pinned by Ino's slender arms. Her stare was inescapable. He gave the safest answer he could think of: "Thanks, Ino. I'd appreciate that." A calm, cool reply with a dangerous potential outcome. Ino had the look of an imp as she grabbed Sasuke by the wrist and pulled him out of the shop, calling over her shoulder for somebody to keep covering the counter until she came back. As he was being whisked away, Sasuke got the feeling that he was going to regret accepting Ino's help.

* * *

Elsewhere, another enthusiastic offer of aid was given. "Come on, sis, you know I can help you pick out the right clothes if you'll let me." Hanabi was on Hinata's bed, barefoot and on her stomach, kicking her legs obnoxiously front to back behind her. Her chin was rested on her folded hands and she was sighing.

Hinata was sorting through her wide closet, finding a lot of outfits she hadn't worn in months. She was already ridiculously nervous about her impending date with Sasuke, but her sister's prodding made it worse. "You don't get it, Hanabi; I want it to be _my_ decision," Hinata explained quietly into the clothes. "It's important to me."

Hanabi hummed, seeing that her sister was serious. That didn't stop her. "Yeah, but I'm the one who's gonna have to be seen with you, so I should get some input, right?" She rolled over onto her back, looking at Hinata upside down for a change of scenery. "Besides, what you wear during the day isn't all that important. It's the dress you wear after sundown that'll make the biggest impact."

The elder sister turned to look at the younger, blushing lightly. "A-after sundown? A dress? What happens after sundown?"

Hanabi's mouth hung open for a second, speechless. "Wait, you don't know about the dance? The _slow_ dance?" She smirked, showing a fang on the corner of her mouth as she flipped gracefully forward to land on both feet beside Hinata, getting right inside of her shy sister's personal space. "That's where you'll get your chance to _really_ make an impression on Sasuke." She would have been breathing down Hinata's neck if she hadn't been so short.

Blushing still, Hinata poked Hanabi's forehead with two fingers to nudge the intrusive, grinning face away. The motion was a peculiar habit, one that she had sort of picked up from Sasuke. "Don't be a brat; I'm just trying to have a good time, not make an impression..." But secretly, not-so-secretly, she did want to impress Sasuke in a way that he'd never forget. Problem was, she didn't know how to go about doing that. She was planning to go with the flow, do what came naturally, but as she got more and more nervous, Hanabi's needling seemed that much more helpful. "Besides, I've got time to think. We're not meeting Sasuke until noon. Shouldn't you be more worried about changing out of your pajamas?"

Hanabi looked down at her own outfit: fluffy, pink, and warm. She hugged it against herself with both arms around her stomach and chest. "No way! This is the only real day off I've had in months; I might just wear this _allll_ day." She snickered at the entertaining thought, peering up at Hinata with a sly slant to her eyes. "That wouldn't embarrass you in front of Sasuke, would it?"

"Do what you want," Hinata said dismissively, but with a bit of a tremor in her voice. She was leafing through outfits like files in a folder, finding nothing she wanted. She pulled out a familiar jacket. "I guess I could just wear this." she mused as if she were defeated by her own options. "I've always liked it...What do you think?" She turned to show Hanabi. It was her usual top, loose-fitting with long white sleeves and a lengthy lavender center that dropped down past her hips. She had worn it a few times during Sasuke's training, but after it got a few small knicks in the fabric, Hinata had gotten into the habit of leaving it at home. She had forgotten about it, practically, until finding it wedged between a few other items hanging up.

Hanabi stuck out her tongue, finding the jacket to be boring. "Whatever, I already said it doesn't matter what you wear at first. Pick something out for the dance!" She used her shoulder and small frame to nudge her way past Hinata and access the closet, ignoring her sister's meek protest. Little hands dug around in the bottom compartments, opening drawers and searching quickly. "Something fancy and frilly...enough to knock him off his feet..." She mostly found socks and undergarments, humming. Wrong drawers. Before she could make an inappropriate comment, Hanabi was plucked by the back of her pajama collar, lifted up off her knees, and carried over to the bed by Hinata. With a poof of the mattress, Hanabi was dropped on her behind.

Sternly, Hinata looked at her little sister with one finger held up. Scolding, but not very effective. "Okay, Hanabi...I love that you're trying to help, but I'm already worried enough without you making things more difficult. Can you please be good? If you act like this all day...well..." Hinata was frowning a little. Jittering. Her eyes were paler than normal, as if lacking drive. "Sasuke might not like it."

Hanabi scoffed. "I can act how I want. We both know Sasuke's gonna be super into you no matter what...making sure he's into you isn't the point!"

Hinata blushed abruptly. "No matter what...?" It felt true.

Hanabi put her hand over her own face and groaned. "You can't be serious. You still think it's possible to screw it up? Not a chance! He's practically putty in your hands. I've seen it on his dumbfounded face! You've gotta be more confident than this."

Hinata pursed her lips. She didn't buy that. Surely she was going to do something wrong when it counted. "So if that's true—only _if_ it is, why does it matter what I wear?"

"Because there's a difference between having a good time and really blowing him away." Hanabi stayed on the bed with her arms crossed, as if she had been placed in time out and had to pout about it. "You're both gonna have fun no matter what, but you want more than that! You want him to _confess_."

A deeper blush. "C-confess?" Hinata clutched her hands together at her waist, bashfully squeezing the hem of her night shirt.

"Yeah, confess his _love_! That's what you need from him." Hanabi was teasing, and she delighted in the way Hinata's hands moved immediately to cover her own face, then how she turned toward her closet to bury her upper body in the hanging clothes.

"Don't be silly," Hinata's hands were wringing a blue shirt between her pale fingers, seeking some kind of comfort in her flustered condition. How was she so easy to read? She couldn't remember the last time she successfully hid something from her 'baby' sister. She sighed and admitted defeat. "You're so perceptive that it's scary. Anyway, that's all so easy for _you_ to say, but I feel stuck. I don't know what I'm supposed to do next."

"Don't sweat it. I've got you covered. Wear your jacket or whatever when we leave, but take something else with you for later. What's your favorite fancy dress?" Hanabi moved to stand off the bed again, crossing the soft carpet to return to the closet.

For a silent minute, Hinata thought to herself about what she could wear. The correct answer hit her when she looked in the standing mirror beside her. She looked into her own eyes. "Oh, I've got it!"

"You already picked? That was pretty fast..." Hanabi seemed disappointed. She wanted to dig around some more.

"Yes, I've got a dress in mind. Thanks for the help!" Hinata ducked down to hug her shorty of a sister around the shoulders, smiling easily. "It'll be perfect."

Hanabi smiled halfway, bummed that she didn't get to shop around but glad for her sister's certainty. "Great! Take it out while I go to get Ko; he can pack it up for you." She quickly went through the door and disappeared.

Hinata raised a hand and started to call out; she was going to spare Ko the trouble and do it herself, but Hanabi vanished before she had a chance to say so. Excitement was obvious on her little sister in the same way that nervousness was clear-cut on herself. "O-okay," she muttered somewhat weakly. She was alone in her room, and she imagined the night to come. A slow dance; would Sasuke actually want to dance with her in front of everyone? All this time, she hadn't known about the oncoming dance, but as soon as she had been told about it, Hinata realized how badly she wanted it. She looked down to her feet, then started to step to the timing of an imagined song, trying to make sure that she hadn't forgotten how to step. An odd concern; the Hyuuga clan was renowned for its grace. If anyone could dance, it was her.

* * *

"What the hell do you mean you don't know how to dance?" Ino scolded Sasuke along the way, dragging him by the wrist through a crowded shopping plaza. "Dancing is one of the most romantic things there is! Augh, you're so helpless...I swear you're as clueless as Naruto when it comes to stuff like this." She had one hand up to shield her eyes from the sun, scoping around for a specific sign.

"Don't yell so loud," Sasuke complained softly, put off a bit by Ino's passionate chastisement. "You're making a scene." Crowds were piled up, and some people were even camping out in the plaza due to a lack of hotel space in the village. The festival had been an enormous success, dragging in tourists from every nation, large and small. Despite the culture clash that sometimes resulted, the mood was generally elated. Stores were open earlier in the morning than usual to accommodate travelers who came from different time zones; to some of those people, it felt like noon despite the fact that it was barely past seven in the morning.

Ino rolled her eyes. "If you didn't want to make a scene, you wouldn't be running around with that crest on your back all the time. Nobody's looking at me when they can look at you instead."

Sasuke peered around. True, he could tell that most of the curiosity was pointed at him, but several people were also checking Ino out. Not because she was loud, but because she was a rare beauty and a lot of the people there were clearly visitors from different parts of the world who didn't know who she was. The shopping plaza was a natural gathering place; a wide open space, dotted with shops and restaurants, and since it was situated only two blocks away from the festival grounds, it was conveniently placed. Sasuke sighed again and gave a slight tug against Ino's grip, pulling efficiently away from her. "At least let me walk for myself, then."

Ino grinned as her passenger pulled away. She couldn't get enough of seeing Sasuke in such a vulnerable state. It was oddly satisfying. "What, you don't want people getting the wrong idea? Would it be so bad if they thought we were a couple?" She winked.

Sasuke didn't humor her. "What are we doing here, anyway? I thought you were going to give me advice."

"Advice isn't all you need. You want today to be special, but you're going to wear the same old outfit and show up with that scruffy head of hair?" Ino shook her head and clicked her tongue against her teeth. "No, that just isn't good enough."

Sasuke pulled a hand up to his head, clutching his hair—clean, and really not all _that_ scruffy—with a defensive scowl. "What's wrong with my hair?"

The blonde beautification expert sighed and folded her arms under her chest. "Hey, don't get the wrong idea, Sasuke. Your hair's fine and all, but this is a special occasion. That means 'fine' isn't good enough; we're aiming for perfection." She reached up to brush her fingers through Sasuke's black mane, clearly against his wishes, slanting her mouth into a thoughtful line. "We'll cut it first, then we can pick out an outfit to go along with the new look."

Sasuke grumbled under his breath. "I should have known this would happen."

Ino smiled, caught up with her own wistful thoughts. "You're lucky that Sai left me alone so he could guard the Hokage today; if he stayed, he would have been so protective of me that he probably wouldn't have let me leave the shop at all." She looked over her shoulder, walking off toward a nearby salon and checking that Sasuke was still following. He was. Like it or not, he wanted the help. "You'll keep me safe, right?"

Sasuke shrugged, hesitant but compliant. "I suppose. Are you expecting something to happen?"

Ino's joy slowed for a second. "Well, no...but anything _can_ happen, can't it? There's some crazy ice kunoichi sneaking around and making threats, you know."

Sasuke nodded. "Yeah, I've heard about that. Sai mentioned that he told you what's going on, but you don't seem very worried."

A big, pale blond ponytail was bounced back with Ino's head when she laughed. "Ha! With both Naruto and you around, what's there to worry about?" After some skillful navigation of the crowd, Ino approached and then opened the door to a barber shop, one complete with the swirling red and white pole hanging on the door frame. "Let's stay focused." She turned her attention inward, looking straight at the first employee she was, pointing at him with no subtlety. "I need to rent a chair for one hour!" She held up a wad of ryo, clearly willing to take some losses for Sasuke's sake.

"Rent a chair...?" Sasuke asked from behind, feeling steadily more powerless as Ino continued to make moves. _Great. She's going to do it herself._

The head barber, likely the owner of the shop, stepped out from behind a red curtain that concealed a back room, and then looked at Ino and Sasuke through his thick, black-framed glasses. "Rent a chair? Wouldn't you rather let one of our expertly trained stylists take care of you, miss?"

Ino smiled sweetly, daintily waving a hand. "Oh, I don't mean to insult your employees, sir, but this one needs special attention. I promised him that I'd help him out. See, he's got a really special date tonight, and he won't let anybody but me touch his 'do'. You know how it is, right?" She had a very disarming manner when she chose to. "I'll pay the price of five haircuts! I just need to use some of your equipment, since I don't have any of my own." She held her hands together beneath her chin as if she were praying, looking to the owner with pleading eyes.

The barber shrugged. "Deal. You can use that chair over there," he said, plucking the cash out of Ino's fingers and then pointing a stubby finger toward a hydraulic chair in the back corner. It was the last in a row of six identical chairs, three of which were occupied by customers and the stylists assigned to them. Mirrors and soft yellow lighting were the aesthetic of the place, with clean and polished wood floors sporting maroon rugs of various shapes and lengths to add a bit of visual flair.

"Thank you so much!" Ino cheered, raising her fist in the air to celebrate her victory. "C'mon, Sasuke. I'm gonna fix you up so nicely that you won't even recognize yourself."

Sasuke didn't realize that Ino was pushing him from behind until he took his first step and moved faster than he expected. He only had one request, but he aired it before his impromptu stylist got too engrossed in her craft to even hear him. "Just don't cut it too short; I like it the way it is."

"Relax, I'm not going to butcher your whole look, Sasuke. You just need some creative trimming." Ino got a few strange looks from the other occupants of the barber shop, but she didn't notice. She was on a mission. She set Sasuke into the rented chair, them draped him from the neck down with a heavy, dark gray tarp. She then locked her fingers together, folding her hands in a way that cracked all of her knuckles at once. "Besides...it'll all grow back eventually!" She picked up a comb and a pair of scissors, snipping at the air as she brought her tools closer and closer to Sasuke's hair, her eyes gleaming with the realization of a lifelong fantasy. "Let's get started..."

Sasuke gulped.

* * *

Hanabi had already found Ko and sent him over to Hinata's room to help pack away the dress she chose. The heiress was bored again, though, so she set out into the house to look around for someone else to talk to. Hinata was obviously stressed, and even though Hanabi liked to keep up the pestering little sister role, she also knew when it was time to back off for a bit. So she found herself wandering around near the dojo where she trained daily with her father. Hiashi was already awake and training in the room with the door closed. Hanabi could only tell because she couldn't see into the dojo with her Byakugan.

Hiashi had developed a personal technique which he used to hide himself from spying members of his own clan; essentially, he sent out a thick, highly visible cloud of his own chakra to fill whichever room of the house he entered, in turn creating a brick of unreadable static to oppose a fellow Byakugan user's vision. It only worked on those who were more than five or six yards away, though; getting any closer, often as simple as being in the same room, allowed even a marginally skilled user of the eye to 'cut through' the static, so it wasn't actually useful in combat. It was the equivalent of a privacy curtain.

Hanabi put her hand on the door, about to knock on it, but she heard a voice coming from inside the room. It was her father's voice. Was he talking to himself? She delicately touched her ear to the door, listening to satisfy her curiosity. She heard her father's muffled, unmistakable tone as he said something like 'what must be done', and then there was silence. Hanabi blinked and pushed her ear a little bit harder against the door. The flaw of her father's scrambling technique was fairly obvious to Hanabi, but most of the clan didn't realize it—although others couldn't see in, he couldn't see _out_. That meant that Hanabi was free to eavesdrop, so long as she didn't make a sound. Sadly, she seemed to have come at the very end of her father's conversation with himself, because she didn't hear another word for over a minute. Frowning, she crept back from the door, sneaked her way down the hall, and then turned around to approach as if she hadn't been sneaking at all. Her relatively smooth steps announced her presence to her father's sensitive ears as plainly as a freight train's horn.

Hearing a firm knock on the door, Hiashi spoke from the center of his training mat. "Come in," he invited from inside the room, his voice as solid and unfeeling as ever.

Hanabi opened the door and entered with a yawn, rubbing her eyes for added effect. "Morning, father, are you doing well?"

Hiashi closed his eyes, letting some tension escape his shoulders. He seemed a little bit closer to the edge than normal. Perhaps the reason had something to do with why he was apparently talking to himself. "I am well, but I did not expect to see you here this morning, Hanabi. Have you changed your mind about taking the day off?" He opened his eyes again and looked over his shoulder, peering at Hanabi as she stood behind him.

"No, father; I am still going to the festival with Hinata. I need some time to recover before the final days of our training." She offered a bow with the top half of her body. "I appreciate your permission to do so very much."

"You've made enormous progress, and have earned a break. One might suspect that Hinata's spar against me has successfully compelled you to do better..." Hiashi had a smirk on his face. He was challenging Hanabi's resolve.

Hanabi turned her eyes down and away from him, looking at the corner of the mat. "You could say that it was a wake-up call to watch her in action. I thought the gap between us was wider than that."

Hiashi hummed. "You've learned enough since then to defeat her with ease, and you must do so. Defeat would be devastating to your reputation."

Hanabi winced a little. The idea that being defeated by Hinata was suddenly even a _possibility_ was still a difficult thing to accept. "Yes, father. I will not disappoint you."

Hiashi smiled genuinely. "I know that. Go on, Hanabi. Get ready for the festival. I am glad that you came to see me, but I do not want to rob you of your leisure time."

Hanabi nodded, grinning brightly. "Yes, father! Thank you, father!" She bowed again, looking happier than ever. "Will I see you tonight at the festival, perhaps?"

Hiashi nodded. "I will make an appearance, as we all should. It is important, especially when faced with foreign villagers, to represent our clan in force, even at a festival. The other nations must not forget the strength of the Hyuuga, nor should our own village be allowed to ignore it."

In her head, Hanabi was doubtful. Her father still seemed set on proving the superiority of his bloodline as if times had never changed. Pride was one thing, but he was in much deeper than that. To Hanabi, it seemed like Hiashi would die sooner than allow the Hyuuga name to be spoken ill of. "Agreed, father." As usual, her words didn't synch up with her thoughts. "I shall see you then." She shivered as she stood up from her bow. Her arms wrapped tightly around herself, huddling her fluffy pajamas close to her body as she left the dojo. For some strange reason, her father's domain felt extremely cold that morning.

* * *

 **There you have it, another chapter finished. As fate would have it, two days after I posted the previous one back in October, my dad fell down and had a seizure. He wound up in the hospital for a couple of weeks again, but he was probably good to go much sooner. Essentially, the ambulance is required to take him to the nearest hospital, which is a notoriously lousy one in our area. From there, he was sent to another hospital that was capable of performing a surgery which the first hospital thought he might need. Turns out he didn't need it, but because they thought he would, he was stuck at a new hospital that had never seen him before. Long story short, they spent about two weeks re-diagnosing all the problems we already knew he had. He's been home since Halloween, but after that the holidays started gearing up and classes added a lot more work. Another long story short, I've been busy as heck for a couple of months but finally got a chance to work out another chapter. Apologies for the delay.**

 **I hope you loved it! Let me know. Ask questions if you have them, either with a PM or a review. I'll answer most non-spoiler questions (they don't even have to be about the story) as long as you use a registered account that I can reply to.**

 **Until next time!**


	48. It's Not The Past

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Kiba Inuzuka was seated at a table with Kurenai, Mirai, and Shino. The team had agreed to meet for breakfast on the morning of the festival's final day, and the mood was as bright as the early morning sky. They sat together in a half-crowded restaurant, one that was situated far from the festival itself; they had wanted to avoid the masses. The days had gone by quickly since the official kick-off of the tournament's pre-celebration, and with each hour that passed, more members of foreign nations had poured into Konoha.

The mass tourism was a welcome sight, a marker of true peace, but the village could only comfortably sustain a certain number of people. With the temporary war refugees already stressing the village's capacity, the influx of thousands of new guests had proven to be difficult to manage—but they _were_ managed, albeit barely. The intimate, tranquil aura of Konoha had been disrupted by all the activity, not unlike a Chunin Exam event if it had been multiplied by ten. Hotels were full, so kind homes were opened up in good faith to unfamiliar guests. Old friends shared rooms, and old enemies did too.

Leaning back in his wooden chair, Kiba took a heaping bite out of a crisp, wrinkled strip of bacon, then offered the remaining half to Akamaru while chewing. The hound was patiently seated beside his friend and master, his tail wagging and mouth panting. The grown canine gobbled the bacon with a polite nibble, well aware that he was a dog in a public restaurant and thus should be on his best behavior. "Good stuff, huh?" Kiba asked as he gave Akamaru a pat on the head, grinning pridefully. Akamaru was a good dog, which meant that Kiba was a good person. Isn't that how the saying went? Good dogs have good owners?

Kurenai was helping to cut Mirai's breakfast. Blueberry pancakes. "Remember to chew," the Jonin said to her toddler before offering over a child-sized fork. Mirai took it and smiled broadly, showing off the teeth she had grown so far, which only served to emphasize the empty spots from the ones she hadn't yet. Then she turned her attention to her plate—the pancakes never stood a chance. The little girl was merciless.

As Mirai ate, Kurenai saw to her own meal. She pulled her hair back behind her shoulders to keep it out of the way, adjusting her head protector in a way that kept the wild, dark tresses subdued. "Today's the day," Kurenai said after a bite of eggs, which she made sure to chew thoroughly in a futile attempt to set an example for her eager daughter. "Are you looking forward to the fireworks?" She looked over at Mirai, who nodded violently while chewing. No time to speak, apparently. "They're going to be beautiful, you know," Kurenai affirmed.

"Like mommy," Mirai said quietly between bites, which prompted warm smiles all around the table.

"Yeah, just like your mommy," Kiba echoed, smirking toward Kurenai. "Must be nice to be admired like that," Kiba had an envious look. Akamaru glanced up at him with his eyes squinted and, again, his tail wagging.

"You should know," Kurenai said back, looking to Kiba's loyal companion in white fur. Then she looked to the lonely, empty chair across from her; the fifth one at their table. It had been reserved for the remaining member of their team, though without much expectation. "It's a shame that she couldn't be here."

" _Again_ ," Kiba added quickly, visibly irritated but tonally calm for Mirai's sake. "I'll bet she's off training."

Kurenai caught the disdain and gave Kiba a neutral look. "She thinks she has something to prove," affirmed the most experienced ninja at the table. "It's tough to be the weak link in a family like hers. The Hyuuga Clan is demanding, in the most old-fashioned kind of way."

Shino spoke up for the first time since the arrival of the food. "Is she trying to prove something to the clan, or is it to someone else?" he asked from behind his high collar. When he took bites of his toast, the crisp bread disappeared behind the green tone of his collar. He ate more eagerly compared to the others, but that's because he fed more than himself. Fortunately for the unknowing patrons of the eatery, Shino's insects knew to stay out of the light while they scavenged the crumbs.

"You two know how insecure Hinata gets," Kurenai said quietly, wary of eavesdroppers who might spread gossip. "Frankly, I'm glad that she's finally this driven to improve herself."

Kiba felt a sting in the back of his mind. He was still inwardly upset about getting beaten so easily by Hinata. It must have been weeks ago, so why was he still sore? Why couldn't he just be happy for her, like Kurenai was? He knew that he should be celebrating his teammate's strength and confidence, but...No, that could never happen. Especially since her 'drive' was a lie. Sasuke had definitely put her up to it. The mere thought of Hinata spending so much time with Sasuke each and every day drove Kiba to clench his fork and grit his teeth. He bent the silverware between his enraged fingers. He had been trying to forget about his anger, about his weakness, but no matter how hard he tried to pretend that things were okay, he knew that they weren't. They never would be, so long as Sasuke remained free.

"Kiba, is something on your mind?" Kurenai was leering at him warily.

The woman's piercing eyes broke into Kiba's thoughts and scattered them; he looked at her and slowly loosened the grip on his twisted tableware. As his senses returned, he noticed that Akamaru was nudging him at the hip; the bacon on Kiba's plate was getting cold, going to waste. Quietly, Kiba picked the plate off the table and set it down with a clink in front of his companion on the floor, who gratefully dug his nose into the meat. "I'm just not very hungry this morning," Kiba muttered dejectedly.

Kurenai looked to Shino, who offered just a shrug. The sensei sighed and set down her knife and fork, looking to Mirai with a cheerful smile. "Mirai, honey? I'm going to go outside for a little while with Kiba. Will you stay here with Shino and eat all of your pancakes?" Mirai nodded without looking away from breakfast; she was too young to notice the tension in the air, let alone the fact that she and Akamaru were the only ones still eating. "Thanks, sweetie," Kurenai hummed in a sugary voice, rubbing her daughter's upper back affectionately. She quietly stood up from the table and walked around its border toward Kiba, who knew what was coming. Accepting the inevitable, he stood up with an annoyed huff, then he followed along as he was directed and the two of them left the building through the front door.

After strolling far enough away from the entrance to avoid causing a scene, the master-pupil duo stopped in the shaded alley beside the restaurant. Kiba put his back against a nearby wall, the wooden paneling sunless and cool behind him. He folded his arms and looked away from Kurenai dismissively. "What're you gonna lecture me about this time?"

Kurenai stood in front of him and stayed calm, but she would have liked to smack him upside the head. "It's not a lecture; I'm worried about you." She loomed over him, inadvertently putting a scent of mild perfume in his nose.

Kiba huffed, closing his eyes and sniffing audibly, attempting to be rude and defiant. "Don't wear so much of that stuff. It's making my eyes water."

"Don't get snippy," Kurenai replied. "You've been disrespectful lately, more than usual, and I want to know why."

"Why does it matter? I'm an adult. I can do what I want to do," Kiba answered, refusing to look his sensei in the eye. "You shouldn't treat me like I'm still your subordinate."

"You _are_ my subordinate," Kurenai reminded him with a low, stern whisper. She stayed upright, arms folded disapprovingly. "Don't forget that you're still a Chunin, and if you keep up with this attitude, you're going to stay that way forever."

"I thought you said this wouldn't be a lecture," Kiba defied with a sneer, finally looking at her. His eyes had a feral quality, as if he felt backed into a corner and was looking for a chance to escape—or possibly even attack. "Leave it alone, Kurenai-sensei. I don't want to talk about it."

"You're _going_ to talk about it, Kiba; I've been quiet about it so far, but you've been acting this way since the day you lost your sparring match with Hinata; it was the same day you met that strange woman in the forest. What did she say to you...?"

Kiba tensed up. "I told you already, she didn't say anything." He felt a lump in his throat. He heard Miotosa's words again. _You aren't strong enough._

"No," Kurenai said slowly, shaking her head. "You told me that you forgot...are you going to keep lying about that?"

Kiba's fists clenched. "Look, I said I don't want to talk about it."

"That's why I'm worried," whispered Kurenai. Her posture relaxed a bit, and she frowned. "You've never been so secretive before. What's different now?"

Kiba scowled fully. He was tired of the act. "You already _know_ what's different."

Kurenai sagged her head slightly, loosing a sigh as her eyes fell shut. "I do. It's Hinata—but more than that, it's Hinata and Sasuke."

Kiba felt a shiver in his spine. Hinata was probably with that traitor _right now_. "Why does she trust him...? Why would she lie for him?"

"We don't know that she's lying..." Kurenai wasn't fully convinced that Sasuke had good intentions, either, but there was value in giving the benefit of the doubt to a trusted student. Hinata seemed fully lucid and confident the last time they spoke about her involvement with the Uchiha. "She told me a lot of things; she told me that Sasuke protects her, and that she sleeps better because he's looking after her."

"Of course she _said_ that, but I'm trusting my instincts on this one, Kurenai-sensei. I _feel_ that she's lying, but it's rough, because she probably doesn't even know she is." Kiba had made up his mind about that idea several weeks prior. Nothing could convince him to change his path; his plan. He felt as if he had known it all along, but Miotosa confirmed it— _It is easily within Sasuke's power to change a person's very soul. You would never know. Not even she would know._ "I can't let Sasuke get away with it..."

Kurenai relented physically, sighing and letting her posture go almost completely slack. "It's hard to watch you go through this. We're supposed to be happy on behalf of the Hokage, spreading good will from our village to the rest of the world. That's what this gathering is all about. Love and acceptance. Maybe, even if just for now, Sasuke deserves those things too."

Kiba was unwavering in his anger. Kurenai had put forth a good effort, and he could tell that she was fully sincere, but he was legendarily stubborn, just like the rest of his family. "He's not getting a damn thing from me. Not until I've forced him to let Hinata go."

Kurenai's eyes opened up in quiet alarm. "Force him? Kiba, what are you planning to do...?"

Kiba scoffed, dismissively waving his hand as if to throw an idea into the trash can nearby. "Nothing, Kurenai-sensei. Stop worrying so much."

That was it, then. Kurenai could tell that she wasn't going to get anything else out of him. "Fine. You can have it your way, just promise me that you won't do anything crazy." Concern was evident in her eyes, lips, and even the tiny wrinkles of age on her forehead.

Kiba smirked at that, showing off a sharp fang and looking his teacher in the eye. "Ha, you should know me better. I'll never make _that_ promise."

Kurenai put a firm hand on Kiba's shoulder, gaining his undivided attention. "Then you should at least come back inside with us. Hinata might not be here, but Shino, Mirai, and Akamaru are waiting for you." She used her most pleasant, non-threatening voice.

Kiba's mouth was deeply carved into a scowl. "I'm not hungry, remember?"

"Are you going to run off again?" Kurenai's stare was captivating just then, and not in a good way.

Despite his defiance, Kiba knew better than to storm off after getting that look. "Yeah, whatever," he huffed. He slunk past her and headed back inside.

Kurenaei let out a breath of relief. For now, it was resolved, but her talk was only a bandage; she could help, but she could only do so much. Kiba had to 'heal' himself. She hated to admit it, but something the young Chunin had said was becoming more obvious every day—he was an adult. It was past time to let him make his own mistakes. She could do nothing more than hope that he would survive to make more of them tomorrow. She harbored suspicions about what Kiba was planning to do; he was aching to confront Sasuke. Despite her experience and skill, Kurenai knew that even she would be powerless to intervene if Kiba crossed a line and provoked Sasuke to attack.

Crossing the last Uchiha was a dangerous thing to do.

* * *

Sasuke trembled with fear as the twin blades intersected just inches away from his face, his eyes shut tight and his hands clutching hard on the armrests at either side of him. Every instinct told him to defend, but he had asked for this—he was entirely determined to let it come to pass. Every instant was another snip, another fallen lock of black hair. He could feel the weight of the tarp that covered his body from his ankles up to his neck; it was growing heavier by exactly the same amount as how much lighter his head felt. He kept his eyes shut, protecting them from loose clippings, but dared to open his mouth to speak. "Remember not to make it too short..." he delivered lightly, carefully. If he were to make Ino angry at that crucial moment with a poor choice of words, he would certainly be punished for it. Long-term, or at least until the damage could be fixed by regrowth.

Ino hummed sweetly to herself, combing and sweeping and cutting Sasuke's hair with practiced swiftness. "Relax, Sasuke; I'm an expert. I know your look," She tucked the dry, clean end of the comb between her pursed lips while she fiddled with her customer's appearance. "I could've been a stylist," she mumbled through the green plastic obstruction, "but my passion for flowers won out! It's genetic, you know," she continued to hum, moving both hands at a pace that only a shinobi could maintain.

Wholly without intent—or perhaps not, given Ino's sense of vanity—the spectacle had forced the rest of the barber shop to come to a halt, customers and employees alike being overtaken by awe. They were mesmerized by Ino's technique; technique coupled with the unrivaled luster of her lengthy blonde hair as she rhythmically swayed. She seemed to gather attention no matter what she did. Even the lead barber, the older man who had rented the chair to her in the first place, had emerged from the back room to observe while cleaning his razors with a small cloth.

After a few more minutes during which the only sound in the shop was that of snipping scissors and the squeezing of a spray bottle, Ino closed the scissors and firmly planted them back onto the nearby counter. The stillness was eerie, and Ino's figure was blocking Sasuke from the view of the others. "Alright," she said with smooth confidence. "You can open your eyes."

One eye of Sasuke's crept open, his pupil hesitating to bring focus to the mirror in front of him. At very least, he could _feel_ that he still had hair atop his scalp. The remainder was damp and heavy, the result of a generously utilized spray bottle. It started out full, and wound up empty. Sasuke's other eye opened, bringing clarity to the world. The cream-colored walls of the barber shop caught his senses first, since it was everywhere. Then he saw a dark focal point in the reflective glass. It was him, and he was...perfect. He blinked once, then looked again at his reflection. "Wow," he exhaled, partly in shock. "You weren't kidding about being a pro, huh?"

Ino unsnapped the buttons that held a tarp in place around Sasuke's neck, then she swished the whole sheet away from him. Hair clippings were caught up in the motion, with Ino gracefully slinging the dark lumps into a nearby waste bin as part of her single action. Even when she was cleaning up after herself, she was elegant. She practically sparkled whenever she moved. "Would I lie to you?" She asked coyly, admiring her handiwork with a victorious smirk.

Sasuke decided not to answer; he would have been too honest if he did. Instead, he brought his hand up to his hair and played around with it. Shorter, definitely, but Ino had expertly preserved his 'look' despite chopping so much away. The most notable change was that his bangs, though still substantially lengthy, were not drooped over the front of his eyes anymore. He could see clearly. The outline of his hair still looked jagged to an observer, untamed, but was now crafted to be so. Still long enough to keep his ears covered and warm, yet short enough to keep his shoulders clear. "I'm used to cutting it myself," he admitted quietly.

Ino raised an eyebrow. "No wonder you're still single," she teased through pleasant smirking. "You should have come to me a long time ago."

Sasuke permitted himself to smile. "Yeah, maybe I should've."

Ino took another few seconds to obsess over the view she felt personally responsible for creating, then she reached down and grabbed Sasuke by the shoulder—gently enough to avoid triggering his reflexes, of course. Gentleness was a habit that was necessary in a village filled with ninjas; one can never know how sensitive a person's instincts might have been. "Now that you're presentable from the neck up, we've gotta work on the rest."

Sasuke glanced at her with his brow cautiously furrowed. "...the rest?"

Ino, a master of all things appealing to the senses, gestured down to Sasuke's body from shoulder to toe. "The rest. You said you wanted tonight to be special, so you can't show up looking like that!" The hand on Sasuke's shoulder tugged upward, guiding him out of the barber chair and toward the door.

As they passed the small, gawking crowd on the other end of the room, the top barber had a grin of admiration coupled with an enthusiastic offer: "Say, miss, you looking for a job?"

Ino winked in his direction. "Nah, this is just a hobby..."

The man looked disappointed, but he chuckled and went back to cleaning the razors. As Ino pushed Sasuke out the door, she heard the bark of _'show's over, get back to work!'_ to signify that the improvised break time was over. Outside, time had kept passing, and people kept waking. The festival's attractions weren't officially 'open' yet, so the early risers were left with nothing to do but shop while they waited. Stores in the area had quickly developed a special schedule of early morning hours to take advantage of the crowd.

"How do you do that?" Sasuke asked thoughtfully as he began to walk away from Ino's grasp, taking over his own pace.

"Do what?" Ino asked passively while she weaved through the stirring crowd, getting ahead.

"Get everything you want, wherever you go," Sasuke had a coyness, smirking as Ino sped by to take the lead. He was content to follow behind her. As the morning air hit him, he started to get used to the way the soft winds whipped through his new haircut.

Ino looked over her bare shoulder with a soft, pink blush on her cheeks while she looked at Sasuke. "Well, I don't get _everything_ I want," she confessed. "Sometimes I'm just not quite beautiful enough." For a moment, that was it. Then she changed her mind and added a tentative ending. "Well, no, that's not it...it's just that fate sometimes has something else in mind."

Sasuke's expression went soft for a second while he realized what she meant. She was referring to him, wasn't she? Odd, given that she seemed so content to be the object of Sai's affection. Was Sai the 'something else' that she mentioned? Sasuke was curious. "You believe in fate?"

Ino laughed brightly, turning around and backpedaling while she talked—remarkably, she didn't bump into anybody along the way. "I don't mean to get all philosophical on you, but since you asked... I don't think we're controlled by fate, or forced to do things against our will, but I do know one thing: a seed can only ever become what it was born to be. Daffodils don't turn into sunflowers."

Sasuke hummed, contemplating what she said. Rather than delve deeper, he deflected. "Do all of your analogies involve flowers?"

Ino stuck her tongue out, briefly and unladylike, then turned to look straight ahead as she walked. "Only the important ones," she quipped joyfully.

Sasuke smiled small and went quiet. His eyes turned to the cobblestone plaza beneath his feet, his thoughts thumping along with the tempo of his steps. _What kind of seed was I, then?_ So much noise surrounded him, and as always, there were eyes—eyes upon his back, silently judging his heritage by way of the crest which he proudly displayed at all times. He felt lost again, drifting through the possibilities. He had tried to be very many things—an avenger, a revolutionary, a wanderer; he had tried acting as a shinobi of the Leaf, a treasonous rogue ninja, and now even a vigilante. Which one was the truth?

Sasuke's attention moved forward again, cued by the soft sound of an opening hinge. Ino was ten paces ahead and holding a thick, ornate wooden door open for him. She called out, "C'mon, Sasuke, stop dragging your feet." She held up a hand and pinched two fingers together, suggesting smallness. "We need to get you fixed up just a _little_ bit more!"

Now that his hair had been cut deftly away from his line of sight, Sasuke was able to see the sign hanging over the door without tilting his head. _Versatile Vestments,_ it said. "Wonderful," murmured the soon-to-be-fashionable Uchiha. He kept it under his breath, though. He decided to have some faith in Ino, having already gotten used to the weight and feel of his haircut; it moved well, and what he remembered from the mirror had pleased him. He stepped through the door with a quiet mouth and a dauntless pace.

Immediately he was greeted by the aromas of a high-end clothing store, which was a combination of fine leather, cologne, and fresh carpeting. The overall smell was oddly pleasant, and as he looked around he could see that he and Ino were not the only customers inside. Various men and women were browsing dozens of delicately-displayed garments, each one mounted with care upon its own small rack. Every vest, dress, shirt, and pair of pants looked like it had been freshly ironed, and even with his keen vision Sasuke could not find a single thread that looked out of place. He turned to Ino, but she was gone—already disappeared toward the back of the store, leaving only a faint trail of her flowery perfume to follow. Given the morass of fragrance that hung in the air, it was no easy feat to pick out her scent, but thankfully a wave of blonde hair poked out from the rear, near the dressing rooms.

Ino waved and half-whispered from afar, hands cupped over her mouth. "Sasuke, come back here!" she urged loudly enough to be heard, but hushed enough to avoid drawing the ire of the management. This was clearly an establishment that believed in elegance and polite manners. Sasuke felt misplaced. Sure, he was more polite and well-behaved than Naruto, but never to the unrealistic levels that he saw around him from the other patrons. He nodded wordlessly and lurched quickly through the store, joining Ino in the back.

"This place is odd; nobody's even looking at me," Sasuke whispered to Ino around the corner, out of view of the main sales area.

"That's because you're the least impressive thing in here," she said with a sly smirk. "Your clothes are kind of..." She looked him over, a finger pressed into her chin to create a small dimple while she formulated the right word. "Stale."

"Stale?" He looked down at himself, and thanks to the recently added perspective of what 'nice' clothes really looked like, he realized that Ino had a point. His collar was stretched and fluttery, and his dark pants had dozens of frayed stitches and threads that would eventually become holes. His mouth flattened into a line, and he shut his eyes. "Fine, I'll accept that. What do you suggest?"

Ino got the same giddy gleam in her eye as before, when she was cutting his hair, and she grinned wide. "You just wait here, I'll be back with the solution." She touched Sasuke's shoulder and urged him toward one of a half-dozen deep brown wooden doors which lined the rear wall. She opened it and pushed him in, shutting it behind him before she wandered off into the main body of the boutique. Sasuke was left by himself to look around.

The dressing rooms were tucked in the back of the store behind a barrier with just one entryway on the far left side. Upon entering the room, Sasuke saw that it was in fact made of two chambers— first was a medium space with a mirror, coat hangers, combs, two chairs, and a door in the rear. The interior door was made of a light colored, slatted wood, and it was what opened into the 'real' dressing room, which was a much smaller—yet still spacious—compartment with just one small wall-mounted bench to sit on. A metal pole stretched over the back wall, meant to be used in conjunction with the first room's coat hangers, no doubt. Its mirror was large enough to provide a head-to-toe perspective. The carpeting in both rooms was plush and measured, adding just the right amount of sponginess to each step. The colors of the walls, ceiling, and floor were subtle and clean; beige, brown, and burgundy.

Sasuke's sandals felt odd against the carpet, so he swayed from side to side for a moment. He thought to pass time, but the room had little to do other than stand or sit until Ino brought clothes. The twin chairs in adjacent corners of the larger part were an interesting feature—the purchase of fine clothing must have normally been a collaborative affair. Absent of anything else, Sasuke put his right hand against his left bicep and flexed, testing the feel. His replacement arm had been getting easier to use with each passing day, but he could still detect stiffness and inconsistency on rare occasions. He had only two days left to adjust before the first match of the tournament. Rock Lee would be tough to defeat with the restrictions placed upon the Sharingan, and it would be even more difficult if there were any complications due to the new limb.

His fingers opened and closed on demand, also flexing the fresh bandages—newly replaced by his own hand that morning—and testing the cloth's resilience. A surprisingly short amount of time passed before Ino came barging back in with just a single garment bag, black in color and closed with a zipper. "Sasuke!" she exclaimed, "This is the only thing you're going to have to try on, I promise you." She confidently offered the bag to him, holding it up by the hanger that jutted out through the small hole atop the bag.

Sasuke took the bag and peered at Ino suspiciously. "How do you even know my size?"

Ino winked. "It's a talent of mine."

With a hum and a nagging feeling of invaded privacy, Sasuke clutched the bag and got a feel for it. Light weight but hidden from view, at least he could assume that the raiment wouldn't hold him down too badly. "Right...I'll be back," he noted, then entered the second room to close the door behind him. He hung the garment bag on the overhead pole, and then unzipped it. The collection of pieces inside the bag proved to be just what Sasuke liked. The colors were in line with his current garb, but more closely matched together. The bagged outfit's top half came in two layers; one a dark, bluish-gray shirt with long sleeves, and the other a light blue sleeveless vest that was close to the shade of a robin's egg. The pants were deeply gray in shade, and exceptional in terms of craftsmanship.

Sasuke's first visual impression was that the fabric of each piece would be stiff and restrictive, but after quickly shedding his present apparel and affixing the new shirt and vest, he realized that it felt cool and soft against his skin. He put the pants on next, and it was a similar story. Despite looking near-fitted in the mirror, they felt like a mist against his legs. His eyes grew a little with positive surprise as he aligned the three pieces as they were meant to be worn, and the measurements were all correct. It was a fit that should only have been possible with precise calculation. Ino's talents on parade.

There was one last weight in the garment bag, and Sasuke found that there was a zipper about eight inches from the bottom of the bag, situated horizontally across the back side of the sack. Curiously, he unzipped it and found shoes inside. Shining, black leather shoes with closed fronts and backs. That confinement could possibly be a problem. He sat on the bench and slid the included pair of dark gray socks into place. Even those were shockingly comfortable. The shoes had no laces, but rather a concealed elastic tongue; Sasuke hummed while shoving them over his feet. The sensation of having his toes covered was unusual; he couldn't recall the last time he had worn a real 'shoe' like that. He apprehensively stood up, and although the feeling was difficult to adjust to, he found that the footwear was as well made as he could ask for. The _slightly_ elevated heels gave his stature a natural slant without tilting him off balance. He wriggled his toes inside the shoe, and found that there was enough room to do so, yet without being so loose that the shoe slid around his ankle or heel. "Huh...guess she was right again..." He whispered to himself, running his hands down the sleeves of the shirt to smooth them out, only to find that they were already smooth.

Ino had heard his whisper from outside the door, and called back through the slats. "Of course I was right; come out and let me see you."

Sasuke emerged, full-bodied, and put his arms out to the side to show off the full range of his transformation. He rotated once for Ino's benefit, as he knew she was going to demand it of him either way. "How does it look to you?"

Ino's thumb shot up and her eyes twinkled. "Just as dapper as I planned," she asserted with self-sure ease. "Your special girl's going to be impressed." Ino took a slow walk around the room, taking her time to analyze Sasuke's attire from top to bottom. She then quickly stepped in, ducking down to look up at Sasuke, positioned right in front of his chest. "So what's her naaame?" she prodded impishly, which reminded Sasuke vaguely of his sparse interactions with Hanabi.

Sasuke leaned slightly backward, avoiding making too much eye contact. Given how astute Ino had been about hair and clothes, he wondered if perhaps she had already been provided too many clues about his 'special girl.' He turned his head away, avoiding the piercing curiosity. "Maybe you'll find out later," he offered as a dodgy response.

Ino folded her arms and stepped back, sulking. "I thought you'd say that." Her expression sagged a little, but she recovered. "Anyway, how does everything fit? How are the shoes? I know you're not used to that style, but it's important for the ensemble."

Sasuke tilted his foot, testing the feel against his ankles and soles. "They'll take a while to get used to, but I'll be fine," he answered honestly, again moving his toes around to ensure comfort. He shifted his leg, lifting it up off the floor to stretch over and out; it was a slow, sweeping motion like a kick. "The fabric moves really well. What is this stuff made of?"

Ino put a finger up to her lips as if to shush. "It's a trade secret; nobody knows what they use. It's probably made with ninjutsu, if I had to guess. This place is called 'Versatile Vestments' for a reason. 'Versatile', as in it's all designed with a ninja in mind. If you wanted to, you could fight in those clothes." She grimaced a little at the thought. "Just...don't do anything crazy, at least not before your date. It's dry-clean only."

"So, clothes are another hobby of yours?" Sasuke asked idly, adjusting a wristband underneath his sleeve with a seal imprinted upon it. "I always thought you were only interested in flowers."

Ino scoffed dramatically. "You'd know if you ever paid attention, Sasuke. Don't make that mistake with this girl; keep an eye on what she likes, even if she doesn't tell you outright. Watch for the signals. You're pretty good at that, when it comes to battle. Try applying that to your social life, and it will pay off big."

A hum. "Today has been enlightening, Ino," Sasuke revealed earnestly. "Maybe I should have paid more attention to you when we were young."

Ino blushed at the remark and batted a hand toward him. "Nah, it's better this way. Just don't give yourself regrets like that ever again, okay? Live in the present, not the past. Promise me?"

Sasuke nodded his head, showing off the even spread of his hair as it bobbed gently. "I promise. I can't think of anything _but_ the present right now; I want this day to be..." He stopped and furrowed his brow. Did he even know what he really wanted? He stopped to think about it. He turned toward the wall. The mirror reflected the pair as they stood near one another in the fancy changing room; he envisioned Hinata there, as well. She was the true intended of his statement: ' _I really should have paid more attention to her when we were young...'_

An intricate chandelier was hanging high on the ceiling to spread light throughout the isolated changing station. No doubt, there were identical fixtures in all of the other half-dozen changing rooms. Even such a minor, common thing made Sasuke feel alone. So many identical chandeliers, but how many others were like him? His eyes, his blood, his entire heritage; he held the weight of it all in the palm of his hand. And, even in that sense, only one palm was originally his own. The Uchiha bloodline was disappearing, bit by bit, even as Sasuke lived.

"Want this day to be what?" Ino needled, nosy and unashamed. She was leaning in again, her ear tilted toward Sasuke. "Don't leave me out, now. I expect some details after all the work I've done for you today."

Sasuke smirked. "I told you, maybe you'll find out later." He rolled his shoulder to test out another area of flexibility in his well-fitting shirt. It was a perfect range of motion, which didn't match how dense it appeared to be. "Speaking of the work you've done, I really appreciate it...but I can't let you pay for these clothes. They have to be expensive."

Ino laughed beautifully, covering her mouth with a hand in a practiced, demure manner. "Oh, I wasn't planning to pay this time."

Sasuke's gratitude dropped by a notch, but it was still strong enough to keep a smile in place. "Oh? That's good, but...what would we have done if I didn't bring money?"

Ino shrugged. "I knew you would. I heard a rumor through the vine that the Hokage paid you an awful lot of money for that delivery mission you did a while back. Some might call it a bribe, but I call it..." She thought again, finger on her chin. "Well, I guess it was just a bribe. At least it worked, huh?"

Sasuke rolled his eyes slightly. The 'vine' that revealed the payment was probably Sai. "I never asked to be paid so much, and when I accepted the payment, it was before I understood how bad the economic situation is around here." He adjusted his wristband again while he made excuses. Compared to his new clothes, the old-fashioned shuriken summoning bracelet felt positively uncomfortable. "I guess the people out _there_ are still pretty well off, regardless," he mentioned with regard to the denizens of the top quality boutique.

Ino gave a sad, guilty nod. "Yeah...so far, only the people who were the worst off to begin with are feeling the mission drought." She folded her arms somberly. "My clan tries to employ as many citizens of the Leaf as we can afford at the shop, but it doesn't make a big difference for the grand scheme of the village."

Sasuke hummed. "It does enough to change a life." He knew the value of a small act of kindness. He remembered the look on one of the foiled thieves' faces when he offered enough cash to afford food for a time. Sasuke had learned the difference between genuine and feigned gratitude, and the look he had been given was very real. After a moment of mutual silence, Sasuke exhaled slowly through his nose. "Let's go pay for this. Is there anyplace else on the agenda?"

Ino looked him over, seeming to be satisfied. "Nothing else on the makeover front, but we still need to get you that violet, huh?"

Sasuke nodded. "Yeah. It's important."

"It is...?" Ino trailed off to think like a sleuth, still seeming to work through the mystery in her head. The suspense was killing her. "While I was grabbing your stuff, I let the cashier know that you'd be wearing it out the door, so he tallied it up ahead of time."

"Great," Sasuke replied, moving to the crumpled heap of his former clothing. After retrieving the money from an inside chest pocket in his vest, he buried the whole mess into the garment bag and zipped it up, slinging it over his shoulder to carry it by the hanger. "Let's get this over with. How much will it cost?"

Ino had seen the stack of ryo before it was tucked into the new pocket, then she sheepishly smiled, giving her best estimate. "Oh, probably about...half of that stack?"

Sasuke froze in place. No blinking. "Come again?"

Ino shrugged. "Half. Give or take."

Resisting the temptation to abruptly yank the top-shelf clothing off his body and abandon the whole pursuit, Sasuke exhaled and gave a defeated nod. He justified the purchase to himself aloud. "It shouldn't be my money in the first place, and Kakashi _did_ say that I should funnel it back into the village's economy." He looked at Ino for input. "Do you think this place employs a lot of former ninjas?"

Ino gave a proud nod. "Absolutely. That's one of the reasons I picked it out. It's kind of a haven for fashion-minded shinobi—you know, like me. If I didn't already manage my clan's flower shop, this would have been the place I'd have come to for a job."

"That's as good as anything, then," Sasuke conceded as he took roughly half of his remaining ryo from an easy-access pocket inside his vest. Despite the thickness of the paper money, the bulge of the pocket remarkably didn't show through on the front side of the fabric. "I guess there's a price we have to pay for high quality."

Ino grinned. "That's the spirit. Come on, then, the flowers are waiting for us to come back."

Sasuke grumbled internally, but he got over it. He saw himself in the mirror again on the way to the front desk, and even as he flopped a thick pamphlet of bills on the finely crafted, polished mahogany surface, he had decided that the look on Hinata's face would be worth the investment. She would have probably been glad to see him regardless of his attire or his hair, but there was something exciting about imagining what her reaction might be. Ino had a true eye for what people found appealing; perhaps digging around in so many minds had provided her and her clan with some unique insights. Regardless, thanks to her help, Sasuke now had the kind of confidence that only the most attractive man in the village was able to feel.

* * *

Hinata was standing in front of the door to her room dressed in her favorite jacket and light blue pants, carrying a rectangular messenger bag with a few important things inside. She was ready to go, but Hanabi was nowhere to be found. Predictable of course, but inconvenient. She set out through the halls to search around, opting not to use the Byakugan in the family quarters. There was only a handful of places where Hanabi could have been, so she went to the nearest and most likely room on the list—the dining room.

Sliding aside the traditional wood-and-paper door, Hinata entered to find Hanabi seated by herself with a plate of eggs and pancakes, still dressed in her pink pajamas. She talked with her mouth full, probably because she knew how annoying it was. It was her day off, and she was damn well going to act like it. "Mf-hiya, sis!" She managed between chomps. "Want fum eggs?" She lifted her plate in Hinata's direction, though the size of the table—easily capable of seating twenty or more—made it a symbolic gesture and little else.

Hinata smiled softly. She should have been annoyed, but it just wasn't in her. Not when it came to Hanabi. No matter how much confidence and assertion Sasuke had imprinted on the formerly-timid woman, she had weak spots. "Yes, I think I'll take some," she said patiently, setting her bag down near the door and walking around the vast table to pull a chair out adjacent to Hanabi's place at the head of it. "Nobody else is eating?"

"Nah," Hanabi mumbled, "I think most of 'em are already gone for the day. The last day is supposed to be a big event, and father wants the clan to be there in force. Something about showing off our numbers. I get it, but I think it's too early in the morning to be anywhere but here."

Hinata nodded and picked up a fork that was already placed beside a clean plate. The table was always set, for any time of day or night. Ninjas, especially those as prominent as the Hyuuga Clan, often kept unusual hours and needed access to a comfortable eating environment at the end of their missions. She stabbed a fairly large hunk of scrambled egg off of Hanabi's plate and plopped it onto her own. "So, are you almost ready to go?"

Hanabi peered at her sister and nodded. "Yeah, just been killing time and getting a good, nutritious breakfast."

"Nutritious and pancakes don't really go together," Hinata said idly while she squished off a piece of egg with the side of her fork before scooping it to her mouth.

"Eggs are good enough. The pancakes are because I'm on vacation," Hanabi declared with confidence.

"You eat pancakes all the time, though," Hinata bounced back in a very 'older sibling' manner. "How often are you on vacation?"

"About as often as you're running around kissing Sas—" She was cut off by Hinata's hand over her mouth just before a bite of pancake. "Hmmfmfmf!"

"Shh, don't be so loud..." Hinata whispered, blushing furiously. She let her hand stay on Hanabi's mouth for a second longer, then slowly, trustingly, she pulled it back. "Father doesn't know about that."

"Father hasn't been paying attention, then," Hanabi furrowed her brow. "But...I guess that's kinda been the problem all along, huh?" She looked at Hinata with a seriousness that kept her chin and cheeks firm. "Is that why you've been training so hard? Has it all been to impress Father?"

"Don't be silly," Hinata answered hesitantly. "I haven't thought about impressing him since I became a Chunin."

Hanabi snickered. "Well, maybe that was the key all along. Now that you don't care, he's awfully impressed with you. He can't stop talking about how strong you are now." She stirred around her scrambled eggs, looking for a stray white patch, rather enjoying the smoother consistency of those bits. "You've been working harder than I thought."

Hinata looked at her plate with introversion. She detected some jealousy in Hanabi's voice and it was saddening. "I've had a good teacher," she admitted without specific detail.

"How do you guys train, anyway? Have you gotten any good with that sword he blunted for you?" Hanabi leaned back in her chair, pushing her plate away. She wasn't hungry anymore, but it probably had less to do with the conversation and more to do with the fact that it was her second plate.

Hinata took another piece of egg from Hanabi's abandoned dish and swallowed it down quickly, efficiently. "We've made effective use of our time," she said plainly. "I'm pretty good at a lot of things, now."

"That oughta be interesting to see," the younger sister said as she slouched in her padded wooden chair, her spine arched sharply as she sunk down further and further. "They're putting up the brackets today. Are you worried?"

"Worried?" Hinata asked. "No, but I'm anxious."

"Isn't that kind of the same thing?"

"It's more like I'm excited, but I don't know if it's good or bad excitement. It's like...I'm half worried, but I'm not _scared_." Hinata fumbled around her words, trying to describe her specific feeling.

"Whatever you say, sis, but you might just be worried." The little one turned her head and ran a hand through her lustrous hair. "Just do us all a favor and don't lose your first match. Father might disown you."

As humorous as the tone was, Hanabi had a point. Hiashi had been strangely on edge, lately. It probably wouldn't take much to push him into doing something drastic like that. "Father has been stressed. Have you any idea why?"

Hanabi shrugged. "I dunno about all that, but I think I heard him talking to himself in the dojo this morning when he didn't know I was listening."

Hinata paused before her next bite. "What was he saying?"

"Beats me, he only muttered one thing and it wasn't very clear. Something about doing something. Maybe he was making a mental checklist, like a note of what to do to get ready for the festival. He doesn't celebrate very often, so he might've forgotten how to do it." Hanabi shrugged, then fixed her posture by scooting back up into her seat.

"Probably." Hinata decided not to think too deeply about it. The possibilities were somewhat unpleasant. "We should get going. We've lost most of the morning to goofing off, by now."

"Pfft, we've got another _hour_ before noon. Sasuke wouldn't care if you were a few minutes late, anyway. It's like I said—he's putty in your hand. Use your power responsibly." Hanabi looked up at her elder sister with her small, pale eyes looking especially insightful.

"Just get dressed, Hanabi. Otherwise I might leave without you." It was an empty threat, and Hanabi knew it was, but she sighed and hopped away from the dinner table regardless.

The sulking began, little slender shoulders drooping with lost enthusiasm. "Fine, go wait for me by the front gate. I won't be long." Hanabi scampered off through the door and down the hall, disappearing in the direction of her room.

After taking one more bite of egg and blowing a strand of hair aside, Hinata stood up from the table and collected the two dirty dishes to drop them off on the cart resting at the rear of the room. Then she circled back and collected her weighty messenger bag, slinging it over her shoulder and carrying it along with her.

* * *

Hiashi hadn't left the compound, and was in fact standing by the front gate. His expression was a deeper scowl than usual, especially as the sun shone into his eyes. The Byakugan was exceptionally resistant to blinding light, but his skin felt the heat regardless and shriveled away from it. He was in a pale robe, one that matched the hue of his clan's eyes quite well, and it was cut short above the ankles to avoid dragging in the dirt. The sides were subtly split from ankle to mid-thigh, creating a free range of movement. His arms were folded in front of his abdomen, and his posture was steady but relaxed. He was waiting, but he was not waiting for long.

Hinata arrived first, locking eyes with him and tensing up with surprise. She looked as still as a stone as she stood fifteen paces away, feet planted on the broad stone walkway leading away from home, yet the gate was presently shut. Her way was barred. "F-father, I didn't expect you to be here." She tried to explain her startled expression, but it was of no concern.

Wind blew across the open courtyard, the flowers filling the rushing air with pleasant scents from inside their beds beside the path. Hiashi spoke calmly, without any urgency or accusation. "I only have a few things to say before you go. Is Hanabi on her way?"

Hinata nodded, adjusting the position of her bag's strap over her shoulder. "Soon, is what she said. I'm supposed to wait here for her."

"Good," the father curtly stated. Silence followed, with the somewhat estranged family members unable to maintain eye contact. Hiashi felt uneasy, and sought to repair some of the damage he knew had been caused over the course of many years. "Know that I am very proud of the progress you have made."

Hinata nodded reluctantly. "Thank you for saying so, father. That means a lot to me." She still did not turn her eyes toward him. The admission felt hollow. Like idle chit-chat, even.

Hiashi's eyes went subtly to the bag under Hinata's arm. Knowing that she wasn't looking at him, he activated his Byakugan. The interior of the bag was filled with conveniences. Things like hand lotion, spending money, and a change of clothes—a fine dress, as it turned out, though it was wrapped in a plain layer of brown paper. She must have been trying to hide it. Further inside the pile of concealed items was a pair of fingerless gloves. Hiashi's face tensed up when he looked closely at the palms and saw something unsettling. He nearly spoke out in protest of carrying them, but Hanabi was approaching. Perhaps because he valued his reputation as the clan's leader, he deactivated his Byakugan to avoid being known as the hypocrite who both disallowed the use of the Byakugan to spy against family, and did so himself.

Unfortunately for him, Hanabi had noticed before he was able to deactivate his eyes. The impact of what he had seen inside the bag had distracted him just long enough, and Hanabi's timing was just inconvenient enough: "Father, what were you just looking at?" the young sister asked with a knowing tenor.

Hiashi brushed off the question. "A cursory check, for security's sake."

Hanabi looked at Hinata's bag, sidling up to her and folding two slender arms over her chest. She had changed out of her pajamas and into a pale orange dress that hung down just below her knees. The gently elevated skirt was lined with tufts of lace that simulated flower petals. "Do you think there's something in her bag?" Hanabi asked pointedly. Outside of the dojo, and especially on her day off, she felt defiant enough to ask such a question.

Hiashi narrowed his eyes and stepped forward with one foot, exerting his authority. "It _is_ a possibility, Hanabi. I needn't remind either of you that there have been numerous attempts on both of your lives. Each one is still fresh in my memory, some of them with great costs attached." He stopped for a few seconds, recalling one very specific incident that he could never stop regretting. He didn't speak it, but he knew that the children would know. "And two of them were mere weeks ago. I will not risk my daughter's safety for the sake of something as naive as privacy, or trust. That goes for both of you."

The sisters were quietly listening. Hanabi looked defiant, but Hinata looked appreciative. The occasional glimpse of a loving, protective father always gave her hope. He was tough on her because of his affection, not because of spite. She wondered if Sasuke's father had once been the same way. "Thank you, Father," Hinata whispered.

Hanabi was less receptive, but she said the same. "Thank you, Father." Silence, again. The trio exchanged brief glances, and Hanabi almost asked what the problem was, but Hiashi spoke on the edge of her thought.

"I have something important to say to both of you. Together. I expect only for you to listen, not to respond." He glanced between them both, and neither spoke up. A good start. "I feel that it's important for me to emphasize the necessity of our family's unity. We cannot drift apart; we must not falter in our support of one another." He looked again at them. He knew that he was guilty of pitting the siblings against one another in damaging ways, but he continued. "Nothing is more important than family. Not possessions, not friends, not even the village itself. The Hyuuga name is our most valuable asset. We must not let it dilute. We must not forget our purpose."

Hanabi and Hinata exchanged looks of concern. It was a familiar lecture, but it was odd timing. Neither of them spoke, however. They had not been permitted to.

Hiashi continued again: "Our purpose is to maintain the Clan. That means that we are to grow our influence, our reputation, and our bloodline. We must protect one another at any cost. If you ever have doubts about what action is in the best interest of the Clan, then I insist that you follow my lead. I will set the example that has been set by my predecessors. Your duty is to stand alongside the clan. My duty is to _lead_ the clan. Hanabi, your purpose is to become my successor. Hinata, your purpose is to support your sister, me, and the rest of the clan. Do you both understand? Speak."

Two nods, perfectly in sync. "We understand," they both said, their voices coming in unison and sounding like a sweet harmony.

Hiashi looked pleased by the unified, confident replies. He cracked a smile into the bedrock of his face. "Thank you, my daughters. That is all I intended to say. Enjoy your day at the festival." He looked again at Hanabi, and then Hinata. It was especially affecting to look at Hinata; she had grown up to closely resemble her mother. "I love you both." He closed his eyes, and then without waiting for a response, he walked between them to return home.

The sisters were silent until Hiashi was out of view, then snapped into eye contact with slight, nervous breathing taking over. Hinata shivered a little. "Okay...now I'll admit that I'm worried," she quietly trembled.

Hanabi could only nod absently in agreement. She opened the gate to leave. Noon was now only thirty minutes away, but their swift walking pace was the result of nervous adrenaline, not the tightening schedule.

* * *

A man stood alone on a road. He looked far ahead to see that the pathway had been cut through a vast, open field of golden-colored grass. He took a step forward on the path, discovering suddenly that his feet were bare. He lifted one up and turned it to see that his soles were sore and bloody. He must have been walking for days. When he looked to the sky, he did not shield his face from the sun, for the sun was already blocked by thick, billowing brown clouds. He took another step, and found that something snapped beneath his tattered heel. It stung, drawing new blood. He looked ahead on the path, and found many similar stones jutting from the dirt. Sharp, black, and pointing upward. He looked to his left, and then to his right. Amid the dead grass, there were rotting tree trunks. Some were narrow, some were enormous, but all were dry and gray. He felt heat coming from behind him. The grass just two paces from his back, and that which stretched for miles further, had been alight with flame. And yet, the black smoke that rose like dancing cobras did not match the brown haze in the air. It was not the source of the ruined sky.

He took another step. Now his other heel had been pierced by an identical stone. He did not care. He walked forward with no regard for the pain beneath his footfalls. He moved to escape the flames, slowly spreading, and found that he hadn't the energy to outpace the blaze for much longer. He tried to run, but his legs would not move any faster. He groaned in frustration. He looked over his shoulder again. He could see a faint shape, barely visible, far beyond the flames, and from that shape there arose a massive plume of brown dirt and debris; the clouds overhead were not of nature, but were instead the result of cataclysmic destruction. When the man tried to breathe, his lungs were filled with ash and flame. The heat was growing stronger. Flames encroached from ahead. The consumption was fueled by fallen trees, and the engulfment could not be contained. All around him was a border constructed of laughing fire.

The man had no choice but to move forward. He felt the heat at his rear with such intensity that he might have been incinerated had he not moved away. Even the distant hills, he realized, were aflame, looking like great heaps of lava on the horizon. There was no escape. The world was destroyed. He did not know what caused the apocalypse; he only knew that it had happened. He knew that he had survived, though he did not know how, nor did he know for how long. Ever forward, he pressed. The stones beneath his feet at once turned smooth rather than sharp, and he looked down to witness the terrible truth. The black rocks had not been of the dormant earth, but of humans. The arch of his foot overlaid the top of a charred skull, its empty eyes looking up at him, the rest shoved half-deep into the walkway as if trampled by something massive. He deduced that the jagged stones that carved his flesh had been broken ribs. He had been walking through an ancient graveyard. How long ago had so many men, women, and children been slaughtered?

He turned once again to look behind, able now to see through the smoke. The long road was dotted by his bloody footprints, each one leading back to the origin of the plume of brown. The shape was once indiscernible, but in the clarity of the moment, the man could see that in the distance was in fact the once-triumphant barrier wall of Konohagakure. The Leaf had been destroyed. The Land of Fire was being devoured by careless flames. The man smirked sardonically and cursed the irony. Fate was cruel indeed. He no longer had the strength or the will to flee from his destiny. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back, spreading his arms out to embrace the death that came for him. His fingertips caught first, and his arm-flesh burned quickly. He felt himself beginning to melt.

Abruptly, his eyes opened, and he saw darkness. Pure, abyssal black. Darkness was good; darkness was home; darkness was _real_. He felt sweat on his forehead, though the air around him was cool when he sat up in bed. His first instinct was to reach his hand out to the right, fumbling with an end table until he heard and felt the rattle of a pill bottle. He popped the cap off with his thumb and guzzled a third of the bottle's contents. From his left, an unseen hand offered him a glass of water, which he accepted and began to chug until each of the dense medicinal compounds had been fully swallowed. He gasped and panted, hardly able to accept that he was no longer choking on an inferno.

A male voice, humble and respectful and invisible in the dark, came from the direction of the water glass. "You were asleep for many hours longer than usual. You appeared to be quite peaceful, so I did not disturb your rest."

The man in bed was still wordless, catching his breath. He gave a nod of understanding, though. He was listening, but had been immobilized by the realism of his experience. No, it was not the first time he had experienced that place, but every occurrence had been as real as the previous one, and each one had endured for a full second longer than the last. The man in the ruined world was truly him, and he was truly burned alive. In the waking world, he checked the texture of the skin on his arms with both hands, finding no burns or scars.

The voice at his side continued on. "A few minutes ago, you stirred. A dream. You seemed very upset." The unseen attendant took the glass of water back from the man in bed, then set it down on a separate table hidden somewhere in the dark. "Were you visiting the past again?"

The cool air of the dark room had finally started to counteract the sweat that flowed copiously from the man's skin, and at last he could accept that his lungs were indeed empty of residue. He took a deep, slow breath, and closed his eyes. His thoughts were clearing up. The medicines were beginning to work. Haggardly, he spoke: "No; not the past. Not this time."

"Then what, my Lord?"

Lucidity had returned to him. In the total darkness, his eyes took on a faint but unmistakable yellow gleam. "I was visiting the future."

* * *

 **Thanks for reading! Quick update: my dad is doing fantastic. He is actually recovering a significant amount of memory, awareness, and coordination. He still requires constant help and supervision, but the number of things that he can do now as compared to 6 months ago is huge.**

 **Sorry for the long update gap. Next chapter is the official kick-off of the festival portion of our story. It should be interesting. I hope you like it. Leave a review, tell me what you think. I'll answer any (non-spoiler) questions, as long as you have a registered account and can send/receive PMs. See you next time!**


	49. The Festival!

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Noon had come. After a final stop at Ino's flower shop, Sasuke was ready—and waiting, as it happened. He was standing in the narrow, noon-day shade of a massive wooden post, one of a pair of two thick logs as broad as a house and ten times taller, bearing between them a massive and colorful banner which marked the main entrance to the festival. Sasuke had idly noticed that the twin pillars were putting off a faint aura of chakra. The energy carried a signature that reminded him faintly of Orochimaru, though he recognized that the aura belonged in fact to Yamato, who was himself a creation of Orochimaru—and also a man whom Sasuke had first met at one of the snake's hideouts. It sickened him that there were so many things, large and small, that nagged him with memories of his former betrayal. It was a weight he carried permanently, yet one which bothered him less every day. He knew who to thank for that.

People passed him by with nary a thought, chatting with friends and family as they crossed the threshold of the celebration. It was the final day of the party, and admission was always free; all of the stragglers were finally showing up, determined to sample the multicultural delight before it disappeared. Sasuke judged them silently as they funneled in, for lack of better things to do while he waited—some looked weak, some looked strong, but none seemed to care about his presence in the shadows. Hundreds of people passed him by, only rarely affording him a glance. He felt like a ghost, futilely haunting a world which no longer wanted him.

Minutes passed, and he began to feel uncertain. The back of his foot, slightly elevated by the rubbery heel of his finely-made shoe, tapped nervously against the grass. Had she changed her mind? Was he being rightfully shunned? As if on cue, he heard something in the crowd, inching closer along with the steady stream of visitors. It was a sound which few would notice. Silence fell over Sasuke's perception, but for that single, simple sound. A breath. A quick, nervous breath. She was here, and Sasuke could feel the thumping of his heart in his chest.

The crowd was thickening around Hinata as it funneled into the festival grounds. She was breathing quickly, clutching her bag close to her chest with white knuckles. Hanabi was nearby, looking up with a snarky little smirk, silently mocking her elder sister's jitters. Hinata could faintly hear music and laughter, which grew incrementally louder with each hesitant step she took toward the celebration. Had she the courage to move more quickly, she wouldn't have been late, and yet the closer she got, the slower she seemed to walk. Hanabi was silent; oddly respectful as she matched Hinata's pace—or perhaps she was just savoring the display. Neither one had said a full word since leaving Hiashi behind; fortunately, the nerve-tingling discussion was taking a backseat to the immediate surroundings of elation and good will.

Ten years prior, the very thought of having an all-nations festival would have been cause for laughter. The war changed everything—more specifically, Naruto changed everyone. Most of the visitors were wearing clothes suited to their home countries, some suffering more than others—the heat was oppressive that day, bearing down from the cloudless sky to blur the air above the shingled roofs of Konoha. Though she was wearing her favorite jacket, Hinata was sweating for a different reason.

Closer and closer to the open gate, closer and closer to her fate. The banner overhead was visible throughout the village, high and low; it was suspended thirty meters above the ground, was ten meters tall, and twenty across: ' _Welcome All to the Celebration! All-Nations Festival!'_ It was adorned with the symbol of each of the five major Hidden Villages, and even some which were less known—the Rain, the Grass, and the Waterfall, among others. Most noteworthy was that every symbol was printed on the banner with the same scale—none were larger or smaller than any of the others. A mark of unity, though perhaps a ham-fisted one drummed up by a marketing team. What mattered was the message, not the motive, ultimately.

Hinata spotted a man who was familiar, but he was not what she was expecting—he was in the darkness, yes, but dressed much fancier than she was prepared for. In an instant she was self-conscious of her own clothes, simple and well-worn. She ducked down a few inches, hiding behind the dense shoulders of a man standing in front of her. She felt a prod to her hip, knowing without looking that it was Hanabi: "Sis, what're you _doing_? Confidence, remember!?" It was a whisper, but a pointed one. _Confidence._ Hinata nodded, took a slow, careful breath, then lifted her head high. She wanted to belt out ' _Sasuke!'_ to prove her confidence, yet knew the name might have caused some tension if blurted too loudly in such a crowd. Peace was attained, yes, but Sasuke was a controversial figure yet.

She opted for a quiet but noticeable wave overhead, smiling huge and standing on her toes to guarantee Sasuke's attention. She pushed politely through the crowd horizontally, crossing quite a few paths on her way off the road and onto the grassy curbside. As she spilled out from the river of warm bodies, she stumbled a half-step due to nervousness but quickly caught herself and stood straight. She saw him, and he saw her, and the only thing she could focus on was the softness of his smile. In the dark, he could have been sinister—the noon sun left little room for darkness, yet he found it with ease and held his entire form within its confines. Instead of sinister, however, he looked elated. Seeing such a smile on Sasuke's face was more than enough to ease Hinata's nerves.

"Hinata," Sasuke said with a smoothness befitting his gentlemanly attire. He stood up from the post, straightening his shoulders and pulling his hands from his pockets. He took a step into the light, squinting imperceptibly as the sun pressed against his eyes, moving fluidly toward Hinata

Hinata felt relaxed in a way she hadn't expected. She had been so nervous, so doubtful—would he be angry that she had shown up a few minutes late? No, of course not. She knew, forever she knew, yet her doubts were stronger whenever she was away from him. He was a battery for her confidence; hearing the comforting tone in his voice dissolved all hesitation. She smiled like he did, wide and unashamed. "I've missed you, Sasuke," she whispered, now close enough to say his name without concern. His dark eyes were pointed unwaveringly at her milky whites, and she couldn't look away. Her feet inched nearer, leaning up, wanting to be close. Her hands came up to his shoulders. She could feel his quiet, efficient breaths tickling her lips.

"Wow, you two look _adorable_ together!" Hanabi squealed from a few paces back, her hands wringing together beside her cheek as if she simply couldn't bear the scene a second longer and had to say something.

Hinata's spine locked up, lips flattened, and her hands closed into fists, startled by the interruption. Though it wasn't _nearly_ the first time Hanabi had gotten in the way of such a moment, it somehow felt like the most jarring one yet. She abruptly turned on her heel and lifted a finger as if ready to scold Hanabi for being a brat, but before she spoke, she felt a tender hand fall upon her shoulder and squeeze soothingly. Sasuke's hand.

"I think she's right," Sasuke said with easy confidence. "You look fantastic today, Hinata."

Hinata's eyelashes fluttered, and her head turned a few degrees right to peer at Sasuke over her shoulder. "I...uh...y-you too," she stuttered mildly. "Thanks..." The blush had been inevitable; in fact, she was proud of how long she lasted before her face turned red as a rose. Only then did she spend a long moment looking over Sasuke's new attire. It was a far cry from his ragged travel clothes; much finer, and it still carried the subtle aroma of fresh fabric. His hair, too, was still 'him,' yet more refined. Controlled. "Actually, I've never seen you wear something like that before...what's the occasion?" She smiled sheepishly at the edge of her mouth, hoping to hear him admit what her insecurities wouldn't permit her to think.

Sasuke smiled, externally confident. He was as nervous as she was, but better at hiding it. He had practiced his greeting, and every one of his movements, for weeks in anticipation of that moment. He felt like he nailed it, but it was time to drive it home—freestyle. " _You're_ the occasion, Hinata," he murmured while suppressing the tingling under his skin. That was when he tucked a hand under the flap of his vest, carefully producing a perfectly-purple violet, its stem wrapped gently in protective plastic. He held it out to Hinata, ducking down slightly to look up at her. "I want to make today special for you," he murmured softly.

Hinata paused for more than a second, stunned by the cordial way which Sasuke presented the flower. It was pinched between his thumb and index finger, its fragrant face looking up at her as if by design. She put a hand over her chest to make sure that her heart was still beating and then she gasped a bit late, startled by the rush of emotion that caught up to her all at once. "S-special?" She echoed faintly, mulling over the word itself. She reached out with two fingers to clasp the stem of the violet, feeling the softness of what it represented. It was a gift meant purely to delight her, and so it did. She could feel that her eyes were glistening, tempted to cry. She rolled the flower between her fingertips, rotating her view slightly. "Y-you're so sweet, Sasuke," she managed to say while trembling. The petals of the violet trembled, too.

"Here," Sasuke said through a satisfied grin, broad and unrestrained. He could tell that she loved it. "Let me put it in your hair," he offered, gently tugging the flower from Hinata's fingers, which she permitted with an emphatic nod and pursed lips. Sasuke brushed a hand through her locks, smoothing down a portion that had been gently disheveled by wind. He nudged the stem of the violet into place, careful not to tickle her scalp too much. The vibrant purple petals were on full display against the deep bluish-black of Hinata's hair. Sasuke took a step back to admire her. His head was slanted partially, and he let off a hum of appreciation.

"How does it look?" Hinata asked timidly, blushing brightly and lifting a hand to caress the flower with a pair of fingers. The petals were softer than silk.

"Like it belongs to a princess," Sasuke replied with a playful smirk.

Hinata giggled softly, bashfully covering her face with both hands as if she couldn't stand the heat of Sasuke's attention any longer. Muffled and shy, she tried to escape: "Stop it, Sasuke! I know you're just trying to make me blush..."

Sasuke stepped close again, putting a hand on her forearm and sliding his touch up to one of her wrists, gently guiding her hand away from her face, peeking behind her 'cover' to offer a sly remark. "Maybe, but it's working...why should I stop?" He asked quietly, his hand grasping hers. The summer heat paled in comparison to what broiled between the skin of their palms.

"For the record, people are staring at you," Hanabi declared through a snicker, hiding her amusement behind a frilly orange sleeve. "Might want to save some of that for later..."

Sasuke had a problem with awareness when it came to Hinata. All else seemed to mute into the background, as if she was the only piece of the world worth noticing. Hanabi wasn't wrong, though—people _had_ been staring, and it was starting to hold up the line while they lingered to see what might come next. The young Uchiha blushed the tiniest blush, just barely visible at the peak of each cheek, but quickly disappearing. "R-right," he said shakily, holding onto Hinata's hand. "Maybe we should head in," Sasuke suggested, tugging the collar of his undershirt briefly away from his neck. It was a breathable fabric, practically weightless, yet he felt the need to let out a bit of heat nonetheless.

Hinata shivered in the heat. She felt Sasuke's hand lingering in hers and she squeezed gently around it. "Oh! Before we go in, Sasuke, I brought something for you." She gave his hand another slight clench of farewell before she released him and dove both arms into the bag she carried, digging around for something. She had a subdued smile, still flustered by the flower that was nestled in her hair. She could smell its faint aroma wafting down from its perch to pleasantly tingle in her nose. She found Sasuke's gift, a small square box bound in brown paper and twine. "It's...it's not much, but...I thought you'd like them," she said, the confidence draining from her as she held the offering out in both hands.

Sasuke's lips curled up in the corners; a smile he held back. He was trying to conceal the gratitude that welled up in him. In a sense, he knew what it was before he ever touched it—it was a gift he didn't deserve, from a _woman_ he didn't deserve. "Thanks, Hinata," he resisted stammering, taking the box in one bare hand, using the other to snap the twine and unwrap the paper. He took the small white lid off the box and immediately loved what he saw. "I don't even know what to say," was all he knew to say as he picked out the pair of gloves. Fingerless, sturdy, black. The knuckles were dotted with silvery metal caps, shining in the noon sun. They were a fine gift on their own, but the feature that gave him such stillness was etched into the palms—stitched lovingly into the leathery material, patches of red and white, shaped as a fan. The unmistakable symbol of the Uchiha Clan.

Hinata trembled a little, pursing her lips and twisting her ankles side to side, grinding the balls of her feet against the insole of her footwear. Sasuke had been silent for a while; did he like them? She looked reservedly off to the side, toward a bare wooden fence. "T-they aren't much, just...I didn't know what else to give you...you like to wear your crest, right...?"

Sasuke nodded absently, admiring the matching palms. While the gloves were of good quality but mass produced, the stitched emblems of the Uchiha were hand-done. Hinata must have made them herself. Slowly, reverently, Sasuke turned a hand and slid it into one of the gloves. It was a good fit; not too tight, but not so loose as to rub uncomfortably between his fingers. He put the second glove over his bandaged left hand and flexed all ten fingers, testing the material. Excellent. "They're exactly what I needed, Hinata," he said through a soft smile. And it was true—the clothes he wore to the festival were fresh, presently lacking the symbol of his clan. He had felt naggingly incomplete until the moment he donned Hinata's gift. In more than one way, she had made him whole yet again. He held both hands level with his chest, palms up, admiring the hand-stitched crests. They weren't 'perfect', exactly, but in a way, they were better than perfect—they were made by Hinata, with care and attention, specifically for him. He was reminded of the folded name card which awaited him at Naruto and Sakura's wedding reception—Hinata had been there for him from the start of this ordeal of theirs, even if her original motive was to make Naruto happy.

Silence again, but for the murmur of the crowd a few paces over. Hanabi, who had been patient, then came to the rescue, as was her duty: "So...did anybody get _me_ anything?" She interjected with a bright grin and bratty eyes peering from Hinata to Sasuke and back again, dissolving the tension with intentional precision.

Hinata wasn't upset with her sister this time; no, she smiled and turned her head over her shoulder to answer. "Well, I thought you might want something from inside the festival, instead," she said sweetly, improvising. "You can pick anything you'd like once we're inside."

Hanabi's eyes gleamed. " _Anything_ , huh?" She seemed to take it as a challenge, smirking deviously. "Then what're we waiting for? Let's head in!" She reached out and tugged on Hinata's sleeve at the wrist, trying to drag her toward the gate, fully aware that she was breaking up the moment between Hinata and Sasuke. What use would she be if she wasn't playing the role of an annoying younger sibling?

Hinata sighed a little, but then giggled patiently as her sleeve was pulled. "You're too old to be acting this way, Hanabi," she lamented lightheartedly, looking then to Sasuke with an apologetic smile. "Should we go?"

Sasuke's smile grew a step larger, but there was a solemnity to it. Watching Hinata and Hanabi was bringing memories back to him; good things, from long before his world descended into madness. It used to be jealousy—when he saw a mother and child, brother and sister, he would feel spiteful toward them. Now, though, he felt relief. Gratitude. "Yes," he breathed. "Let's go."

Then there was an awkward pause, as both Sasuke and Hinata turned toward the shuffling crowd, prepared to join them, yet not able to take a single step. They each looked at the other, tension in their stares. Hinata felt a lump in her throat, and she fought to swallow it with an audible gulp. How should they walk together? It was clear to both of them what their meeting at the festival truly meant, but were they ready to let the rest of the village know? It was hardly a secret that they had been spending time together, but...

Hinata was the brave one. She reached her delicate, pale left hand toward Sasuke's freshly-gloved right hand, and she cupped her palm against his. Her fingers slipped between Sasuke's, and she squeezed with a soft reassurance. Sasuke gulped his own uncertainty, tilting his head back with the slightest hesitation to raise his chin. His fingers closed tightly around Hinata's smaller hand, securing it in his protective grip. In front of them was a sea of 'normal' people. Maybe it was finally time to join them.

Even Hanabi was speechless in that moment, pursing her lips and blushing slightly from beside the pair. She dug her heel into the grass beneath her and twisted her foot, fidgeting desperately to avoid saying or doing anything that might disrupt the connection she was witnessing. Though she wouldn't admit it, she was fully jealous of what she saw. For all the lecturing she often gave Hinata about being clueless and inexperienced, Hanabi found herself in that moment wishing that she could have been in her sister's place.

Sasuke and Hinata were smiling at one another, though with unevenness in their expressions. Fighting the urge to grin too broadly, trying hard to look confident, they both had the same problem—they didn't think they deserved each other. Even so, when Sasuke picked up his foot, Hinata did too. In unison, they stepped forward and merged with the crowd, finding a small gap in the line to squeeze into. A moment later, Hanabi shook her head to clear her discomfort and hurried to follow them.

* * *

Sai was perched atop a sunny roof, kneeling alongside the newest recruit to the Hokage's bodyguard team. The pair of them were dressed in their full black robes, with painted porcelain masks adorning their faces. Despite the disguises, they each knew who the other was—gone were the days of the nameless Root and Anbu operatives. Trust grew from familiarity, not secrecy. Or at least that was how Kakashi had put it when he made the change to the system. Sai was the senior member of their two-person unit, so he was positioned slightly in front of his companion. "See anything unusual?" He asked against his mask, voice muffled only slightly.

"Nothing yet," the young woman answered. Her own mask was modeled after a bird of some kind, with narrow blue stripes leaking down from the eyes like tears. "But there are a lot of people. A lot of things could go wrong."

Sai nodded. His arm was draped over his bent knee, hand dangling calmly at the end of his wrist. "That's right. Keep your eyes open." He turned his head toward her, peering at her narrow frame through the holes of his mask. "This is your first mission as a guard in the field, isn't it?"

She nodded slightly. Her dark hood was crinkled as it covered her head, casting an uneven noon-day shadow on the concrete roof beneath her. "That's right. I was only recently appointed to my position. You've been doing this since the war, haven't you?"

"Just after it," Sai hummed with a mildly corrective tone. "I worked with your predecessor on numerous occasions. He took the job very seriously."

The girl was quiet for a moment. She knew of the man whom Sai was referring to. All the operatives had heard what had happened—a traitor in their midst. "Shell," she uttered with neutrality. No venom, no admiration. Tough to read. "I don't get it. He was a bodyguard for over a decade. He served under the Third, Fifth, _and_ Sixth Hokages...why do what he did? Why now?"

Sai exhaled a soft sigh, cooling his sweating face somewhat beneath his mask as the air pushed its way out. It was a hot day; not ideal for a thick black robe and stifling face plate. "We'll probably never know," Sai admitted. "People are motivated by whatever motivates them. It could have been money, it could have been a personal grudge against the Hyuuga Clan, or it could have been boredom."

Sai's partner breathed quietly for nearly a minute. She was lost in thought. Her airy voice and slight build gave Sai the impression that she was no older than sixteen, though he would never ask her directly how old she was. That was something Ino had taught him— _'never ask a girl her age!'—_ and he always took Ino's lessons to heart. He knew that the girl's name was 'Assana', and that she was a Chunin who had fought in the fourth war. Most of her close comrades had been slaughtered by the Juubi's rampage, but she alone had survived. She never talked about her old friends, and Sai couldn't blame her for it.

While Sai pondered over her, she was scanning the festival beneath. Its body spilled through all sorts of nooks and crannies of the village, radiating outward from the massive combat stadium like roots. What used to be dark, abandoned alleyways had been cleaned up and converted into strips filled with carnival games and snack stands. Music rose up from the ground level, hitting Sai and his partner's ears in a dull roar. They were nine stories up. By the time the skillful notes of musicians reached them, it had all become a muddy mess, mixed together with laughter and shouting.

"Interesting..." Assana whispered, pale blue eyes turned toward the largest of the entry gates.

Sai looked in that direction as well. "What do you see...?" he asked, but soon answered for himself. Black hair; different from how Sai remembered it, but there was no mistaking the face. Despite recent changes of heart, there was a sharpness—and a coldness—to the features. "Sasuke Uchiha, in a place like this?" Sai mused aloud. It was a pleasant surprise.

"Should we tail him?" Assana asked her superior. "He might get into trouble."

Sai considered the suggestion, subconsciously bringing a hand up to caress his throat. He remembered the strength of Sasuke's grip on his collar, and the sharpness of a sword against his skin. "No, it's best if we leave him alone for now."

Assana nodded, accepting his decision without question. Her attention reluctantly drifted elsewhere. "Since we've been assigned to the festival, do you think the Hokage will be coming in person?"

Sai hummed, eyeing the crowd. "It's likely."

"And if something goes wrong...could you please remind me of our priorities?" Assana looked toward Sai. She almost seemed jittery, as if expecting trouble. Or hoping for it?

"The Hokage is our primary concern. He is the face of our village, and the most likely target." Sai looked off toward the Hokage's residence, outside of the festival grounds but still in view from his vantage point. It was obscured by waves of heat, but it was there nonetheless. "The Fire Daimyo is not in attendance at the festival, else he would be our secondary concern. Currently, he is in a secure location with his own bodyguard detail. Because he's not here, Naruto becomes our secondary concern."

Assana made a quizzical sound, a short breath. "Naruto? Does he even need people like us to protect him?" She looked over the sea of people and tent fabric, but she could not find the young man in question. "I've seen what he can do...I've felt how powerful that red chakra can be." She clenched a fist, as if trying to physically grasp her memory of the war. She had likely been there when the Kyuubi loaned its chakra to the Alliance.

Sai smirked under the mask. "He can protect himself, but even so, he is our second priority. Popular opinion is that he'll be our next Hokage—he's also our best asset in combat, and the linchpin holding the peace together. If something happens to Naruto, everything in front of you could collapse."

Assana nodded, listening closely. "But who would want to hurt Naruto now...? The war is over, and the nations are at peace. He's the hero of the world."

"Maybe that's exactly why they want to hurt him," Sai countered somberly. A hot wind blew past, causing their black robes to flutter wildly as the silence settled between them.

* * *

Sasuke and Hinata entered the festival with their hands locked together. They were surrounded by strangers, people from all the different nations large and small. They shared a blush as their fingers wriggled against one another, reminding each other that they were near. As they passed the massive wooden frame, the sounds and smells hit them wonderfully. Baked goods, searing meat, spiced vegetables, and more were all being prepared near the gate to appease the appetite of newcomers. The entire festival was on flat ground, a mixture of stone and grass, with decorations littering the landscape. Nearly a quarter of the village's area was in use by the festivities, with some residents of Konoha allowing the use of their homes or businesses to serve as temporary restaurants and craft kiosks—with compensation, of course.

Sasuke looked around, taking in the various colors. Banners were everywhere—dangling from rooftops, posted on utility poles, or plastered onto fences and walls. Everyone wanted a piece of the crowd, with advertisement arrows pointing in every conceivable direction, trying hard to entice visitors. Many of the attractions were wooden booths with colored tarps laid overhead to block the sun. Blue, red, green, yellow, and brown were the most common—the colors of the five great nations, indicating which sort of cuisine or artistry one might find. Other booths were covered by striped fabric, always white with another solid color alternating. Those seemed to be the games. Skill contests, dice rolls, all manner of activities with prizes available for good performance.

Hinata was searching around, mouth hanging open slightly with awe. "What should we do first...?" She asked, nearly drowned out by the sound of the crowd. "There's so much."

Hanabi ducked underneath the couple's joined hands, turning around and standing in front of them. "We should look around some more, take it all in!" She had a pamphlet of some kind in her hands, unfolding it into what seemed to be a map with a schedule attached. "Some of the booths are only open until sundown, so we should check those out first." She dragged her finger down the laminated booklet. "The dance is at ten, and the fireworks are at midnight...the concerts last all day, and are here, here, and here..." Her finger was darting around the map, poking at green dots. "We ate before we left home, so I vote we build up a fresh appetite with some games first."

Sasuke scoffed slightly. "Games, huh? What kind of games can they have at a festival filled with shinobi?" He imagined the typical variety—throwing a ball into a cup, or knocking over a stack of bottles, or dunking a volunteer into a vat of water. It all seemed too easy for a trained ninja.

Hanabi snickered. "You've got a point...some of them are made for ordinary people, others are for people like us. The blue ones are 'easy' and the red ones are 'hard'." She indicated a few dots scattered around the map. "Yellow ones are luck-based, so anybody can play."

Hinata squeezed Sasuke's hand. "You should win me something!" she said excitedly, with a sheepish little smile pointed toward him. "I-if you want to, I mean..." She pursed her lips bashfully, withdrawing some of her enthusiasm.

Sasuke smirked, his teeth nearly sparkling with the charisma of it. "Pick a prize," he began, walking forward with Hinata's hand in his. He was looking at her instead of where he was moving, and when he turned his head straight again he felt the color drain from his face.

Ino was there, right in front of Sasuke and Hinata, barely two steps from them. She had the biggest, most satisfied, and toothiest grin imaginable. She practically had fangs. Her body was leaned forward at the waist, her hands triumphantly settled on her hips. She looked at Hinata for a moment, then down at their joined hands, then to the violet in Hinata's hair, and then to Sasuke. "Can't say it was my first guess..." she murmured to herself, coyly resting a hand under her chin. "But now that I see it, you two look awfully good together..."

Hanabi was snickering toward Ino, raising a hand, taking it all in stride as usual. "That's what I said, too!" she declared with a similar grin. She and Ino should have been partners in crime.

Hinata was blushing dark. It was easy to declare confidence in her relationship with Sasuke when surrounded by strangers, but her natural embarrassment was hard to resist now that a friend had come. She plucked her hand reflexively away from Sasuke's and clasped her hands together in front of her waist. Her head hung down. "I-I don't know what you mean..." she uttered, wriggling her knees together. _So much for confidence_ , she thought to herself in defeat, _maybe I'm hopeless after all._

By contrast, "That's right," came Sasuke's smooth voice. He was looking at Hinata, in all the stuttering mess she had become, with nothing less than total acceptance and admiration. "Hinata is the special one I told you about."

Hinata gasped and gulped, shivering for a moment before lifting her chin up. She forced a smile. It was all so surreal, being declared as Sasuke's 'special one' so confidently. He never even hesitated. He made no effort to hide his affection for her. It made Hinata's knees weak, but she managed to stand upright.

Ino saw the way Hinata was melting, and the blonde bit her own lower lip. _Yeah, that looks about right...can't say I'd be handling it any differently if he said that about me,_ she silently admitted to herself. Sasuke Uchiha, the ultimate bad boy, aloof and distant, had been drawn in by...well, Ino hesitated to call Hinata anything negative, but she still couldn't figure out just what it was that made her so special. Must have been the lingering jealousy getting in the way of her judgement. "I guess all that timid doe in the woods stuff finally paid off, huh Hinata?" She winked, playfully teasing the jittery young woman. "All that time me and Sakura spent trying to chase down Sasuke, and he goes to the quiet one in the corner instead. We had it all wrong, didn't we?"

Hinata recognized the teasing, and took no offense. "W-well, it's more than that, but..." She took a deep breath, calming her nerves. The sky hadn't started to fall yet, so maybe things were the way they were meant to be. "I'm really very lucky," she closed her eyes and smiled sweetly, head canted to the side so that her hair hung loosely over her right shoulder.

Ino felt Hinata's smile like a bolt of lightning to the back of her neck. She outwardly smiled in return, but there was a quietly resentful twitch in her brow: _Damn, she's good...she doesn't even have to try, does she?_ "How long have you been, uh...seeing each other?" Ino asked through pleasantly clenched teeth, trying her best not to let the defeat show through.

Hinata blushed again, looking to Sasuke for an answer, but the Uchiha's knowing smirk meant that Hinata was meant to give it. A test, perhaps, to make up for her momentary lapse of confidence. "I've been practicing with Sasuke for..." She had to pause. How long had it actually been? She had months, perhaps years worth of memories of training with Sasuke. The genjutsu had made it difficult to tell when time was genuinely passing. She settled for airy laughter and a guess: "Over a month, I think? It blends together after a while, you know?" She brushed some hair behind her ear, giving that smile again.

"I suppose it would..." Ino twitched. "So you're one of the fighters?" Change the subject a bit. Distract from the sting.

Hinata nodded enthusiastically. "I am! I've learned a lot from Sasuke, and I think I'm going to do very well. Are you a part of it, too, Ino?"

Ino managed to smirk without hidden meaning. "I sure am; I'll be wearing the Yamanaka brand into battle to drum up some extra sales. This is the chance I've been looking for to bring global attention to our flower shop! Before you know it, we'll have franchises open in every nation." Ino gave a pose, holding her hair up with one hand and holding the other out in a peace sign. It was a little gaudy, but Ino was good at making gaudy look good.

Hinata covered her mouth with a curled hand and giggled kindly. "I think you'll go far. I hope I don't have to fight you too early."

Ino relaxed her pose, looking to Hinata. "We'll probably never fight at all. Word is, there are hundreds of entrants, and scheduling has been a pain—the whole thing could last a month or more."

Sasuke narrowed his eyes skeptically. "A month? I doubt that—hundreds of applicants or not, most of the fights are going to end quickly. I don't intend to slack off."

Hanabi was a head shorter than the others, but she stood on her toes to make herself noticed. "Yeah, what Sasuke said—I'm gonna do my part to make it quick."

Ino shrugged. "Just what I've heard whispers of in the shop. People gossip all the time in there; something about the sweet smell convinces them that they're not being watched."

"Little do they know," Hanabi added with a wry smirk. "Where are your teammates? Shikamaru, Choji?"

Ino shrugged again, bobbing her lengthy hair up and down behind her back. "Who knows? I figure I'll run into them sooner or later, since there are a ton of snack stands and restaurants around this part. Choji is bound to visit every one of them, eventually."

"And Sai?" Sasuke asked, curious about the artist. He had proven to be a valuable ally, and maybe a little bit of a friend. "I assume he's working, still."

Ino nodded, her mouth puckering to one side of her face. "Yeah, but he promised me that he'd take a break in time for the dance. He _usually_ doesn't break a promise, but he can't always get away from his work."

Hinata frowned a little. "It's too bad he's missing out. This is such a lovely gathering." Looking around her immediate area, she smiled. Then she triggered her Byakugan momentarily, the veins on her face bulging indicatively. "I can see thousands of people...I see Kiba, Shino, Mirai, and Kurenai-sensei on the other side of the arena. They must have come early. Naruto and Sakura are here, as well...The Kazekage, with his siblings, plus the Raikage and the Mizukage, are all together. I don't see the Sixth or the Tsuchikage anywhere on the grounds."

Sasuke looked off in the direction of the Hokage Monument; Kakashi's massive stone face—complete with mask—looked over the festival. "He would rather work than be social, I suppose. Can't blame him."

Hinata ended her snooping, her Byakugan deactivating. "You'd rather work? But we're already having fun, aren't we, Sasuke?" She felt confident to reach back over and grasp his hand, clutching his fingers in hers. It no longer embarrassed her to do so in front of Ino. It made her feel warm, but not in a flustered way. "Don't tell me you're having second thoughts." She was playing with him. She felt in her heart that he was glad to be there with her.

Sasuke's hand squeezed Hinata's. "Don't tempt me to answer honestly," he muttered in jest. His smile was natural and soft, unplanned. "We're only here because I owe you a slice of cake."

Hinata released Sasuke's hand, opting to link her arm all the way around his, pressing her cheek against his silky-sleeved bicep. "Yes, but now that we're here, I'm not going to be satisfied until we see the fireworks..." She had a happy little smile, blushing as she felt the strength of his arm against her soft skin. "And we'll need to dance..." She added, more quietly. A hand subtly clutched the strap of her bag. She hoped she had made the right choice.

Sasuke pursed his lips. "Fireworks, eh?" He felt the warmth of Hinata wrapped all across his left arm, half of it made of somebody else's cells, but the other half his own. "You'd think the shinobi world would have seen plenty of explosions by now."

Hinata murmured something unintelligible, then spoke a little louder. "These explosions are a lot prettier, though," she justified. "And nobody gets hurt."

As the couple shared small talk and gently leaned against one another, Hanabi and Ino exchanged glances off to the side. Ino crouched down a bit, whispering to Hanabi with a cupped hand over her mouth. "Are they always like this...?"

Hanabi rolled her eyes, whispering back through the side of her mouth. "Oh, you've got no idea. Just wait 'til they start kissing again..." She made a little sneer.

Hinata blushed again; she knew she was being whispered about, but it was alright. She stood up from Sasuke's arm, dropping her hand to his. "Let's go find a game to play!"

"Sounds good," Sasuke added with a smirk. When Hinata began to lead the way, Sasuke followed behind. Ino must have decided to join their group, because she tagged along just after Hanabi. The four of them delved into the crowd, searching for the game with the best prizes.

* * *

 **Thanks for reading! I hope you liked it. Some people have contacted me since the last update, worried about my dad (and me), and I appreciate the support! Everything is fine, I've just had a lot to do. The story isn't dead, nor will it ever be dead! I'm always thinking about it. I've got tons of plans for where it's going next, and there's never a day where I'm not mulling over one idea or another. Don't worry. It may take time, but it will one day be finished. I promise!**

 **That said, thanks again for reading. Let me know what you thought! Reviews and Private Messages are heavily encouraged—as always, I'll answer any question I'm able to answer, I only ask that you have a registered account so that I can PM you the answer. No spoilers, either! I might give hints, but never pure spoilers. Thanks once again, and I'll see you next time.**


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